Live and Learn
by Charis77
Summary: The story of Cadmus Vakarian, father of Garrus Vakarian. Begins with his marriage and will follow him through the Mass Effect series of games and a little beyond. Explores Cadmus' impact on and relationship with his family, focusing on our favorite turian, Garrus Vakarian.
1. Wedding

Cadmus Vakarian squirmed uncomfortably in the stiff blue suit he wore. He knew it was tradition, that he had to wear it, but he wished turian wedding customs were less formal. He recalled that the asari and salarians allowed freedom to couples getting married, affording them the liberty to make their own choices in the ceremony. Turians still held resolutely to ancient tradition. Cadmus, of course, wouldn't have changed that fact. He was of the opinion that tradition was the foundation for duty, his core value. However, that didn't mean that an overly starched long-sleeved shirt and pants felt comfortable.

He walked stiffly to the window of his room and glanced down below. He hailed from a wealthy family, part of the upper echelon on Palaven. He'd been raised on palatial grounds and in a well-to-do mansion, but this had not produced laziness in him. He had never been babied. On the contrary, his father was a general in the military, a turian of high ideals who ruled by strict obedience. His home was run like his ship—every thing and every person in its place, including his children. Cadmus had two other siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. His brother served on his father's ship. His sister was in the Corps of Engineers, an anthropologist and sometimes archaeologist. He spotted them down below amongst the throng gathered to witness his nuptials. He felt blasé about them. His brother was thirteen years older and as such, had never figured much into his life. His sister was four years his junior, but she spent most of her time with their mother, being trained in the feminine ways of high society turians. Both his sister and brother had already married. Cadmus was the last of the siblings to unite with a spouse.

Cadmus continued to skim the garden below, the beauty of his home planet having been grown for the occasion, various bushes, trees and flowers, plus a large and beautiful silver fountain that had been commissioned for the occasion. The wedding would certainly be beautiful. He could appreciate that, even if he didn't quite feel enthusiasm for the bride.

Cadmus pulled back from the window and turned to the mirror again. He stared into his own eyes, contemplating the young, virile turian in front of him. He was twenty-eight, three years past the time most turians were married. As an unwritten rule, turians were expected to marry by twenty-five, submitting themselves to the process of becoming true contributing members of society as they began to produce children as well as service. It was true that the insistence on marriage by twenty-five was becoming antiquated, but his affluent family still held to old world ideals. So, a year ago, he'd been encouraged to consider marriage to a female turian from another wealthy family: Laelia Soranus. She was younger than him, just now twenty-four, same age as his sister. They'd been set up on family dates and those dates had been inconclusive. Laelia remained introverted and silent, and Cadmus thought perhaps resentful.

Cadmus ran a talon over the dark blue tattoo adorning his face. What did Laelia see when she looked at him? Chains? They're engagement had been announced by her parents six months ago and she had assented to it verbally. Truthfully, Cadmus had come to respect Laelia that day. She had done what duty called for, even if her feelings did not match the act. She would bow to her parents' wishes. Cadmus had agreed himself to the engagement, though he had not felt trapped. He felt nothing, really. He'd liked females from time to time, but he'd put his heart and soul into his work, not his relationships. This marriage was just another step of duty until he returned to his important work in planet security.

Actually, recently, he'd been considering an alternative to planetside service. His older brother had earned all their father's affection by choosing the life of a soldier. Cadmus suffered the fate of the middle child, passed over by his father and left alone by his mother who doted on his sister to the exclusion of all else. When he'd chosen to be a security officer, his father had voiced momentary displeasure, then let it go, throwing it off as the whims of a less ambitious son. Yet Cadmus had proved his skill, rising quickly in the ranks, already at the top of the heap. But planet security had become boring, the day in and out dutiful, but far from rewarding. That was when he'd thought about his cousin, Viator Lentinus, who worked on the Citadel in C-Sec. Tales of alien encounters and never-ending challenges from the political center of the galaxy made him curious and slightly jealous. He wanted to have those challenges for his own.

A knock sounded at his door. In a modern home, a chime would have rang, but his parents still lived in his father's ancestral home, a relic from a long distinguished past.

"Come in," Cadmus called out in his deep, resonating voice.

The door opened and his father walked in. "They're ready for you."

Cadmus drew in a long breath, nodding his head once and moving to the door. His father put a hand on his shoulder. "Today you become a true turian."

Cadmus perceived a rare thing in his father's eyes: pride. So, getting married made him a real turian? Cadmus didn't see the connection. Couldn't one be a true turian without marriage?

* * *

Cadmus stood in his uncomfortable clothes, face to face with Laelia. He may not have felt love for her, but he did savor her beauty. Her face was slim, a trait turian females prized. She lacked any face tattooing as females were not required to wear it. If she had, it would have been the same as his, as they came from the same colony. Her face was bent down, eyes lowered…respectfully? Cadmus hoped she refused to look at him out of submission rather than disgust. She wore the typical sleeveless red dress, falling almost to the ground. Her bare shoulders were a sign she was leaving maidenhood behind and giving her body to her husband.

Laelia's father was speaking to them about marriage and its duties and responsibilities. Then Cadmus' father spoke as well, echoing the same theme. Finally, both their fathers and mothers came forward, handing each of them a knotted cord. The cord had been weaved by their parents' own hands, a symbol of parental duty to their children. Cadmus held the red cord in his hands, then spoke loudly for all to hear.

"I take Laelia Soranus into my heart, my life and my home. I will be loyal to her as she to me. My bond will never break, my commitment never tarnish. We will exist as one cord, ever circling." Laelia looked up, though her eyes did not meet his. Cadmus put the cord over her head. It rose and fell quickly as she breathed.

Laelia now spoke, softly, but clearly. "I give Cadmus Vakarian my heart and my life, uniting myself to his flesh. My loyalty is his. Our bond will never break, our commitment never tarnish. We will exist as a single cord, ever circling." Cadmus bowed his head, making it easier for Laelia, shorter than him, to place the blue cord over his head. When he looked up, she'd turned her face away.

Their parents took their hands, raised them in the air and proclaimed them now one. Then their father's united their hands. Cadmus held Laelia's right hand. It was shaking.

* * *

After the ceremony came the celebration, formal dancing, feasting and drinking. Normally Cadmus would have relished the expensive wine purchased for the nuptials, but he found himself overwhelmed. Now that he was married, he didn't quite know what that meant for him. What would change? He'd already been gifted a home from his parents, a place not far from them, itself a respectable manor in its own right. He'd hired the staff and Laelia would have her hands full directing them. He supposed he'd follow in his father's footsteps, rarely seeing his wife unless he had to.

"Cadmus, my most hearty congratulations!"

Cadmus' mouth opened and his mandibles twitched in the turian approximation of a smile. His close friend from childhood, Arsenius Fedorian, placed his hands on his shoulders and squeezed tightly. "You've joined the ranks of the married. How does it feel?"

Cadmus shrugged. "No different than from before."

Fedorian cackled. "That's Cadmus. Not a ripple in his demeanor. Come, come, friend. I know your thoughts are deep even if your mouth is shallow."

Cadmus eyed his friend, but didn't say a word.

"I know the trouble. You need a drink." Arsenius gestured to a server who hurried over with a glass of exotic wine. "Here."

Cadmus held the drink in his hand and took a sip. It was good, but he didn't really want any. He found his mind preoccupied with thoughts further into the evening.

Arsenius noticed his hesitancy and put a hand behind his back, pushing and directing him away from the crowd to a quiet corner. "You aren't happy? Look at her. You couldn't do better, my friend."

Cadmus looked across the room to Laelia who stood among a group of female turians. She was beautiful, without a doubt. But she, too, did not seem full of enthusiasm. She was utterly reserved in her demeanor.

"I'm not unhappy with her."

"What then?"

Cadmus considered the dark turian with white markings in front of him. He had known Aresenius most of his life. They had played together and then trained together, conquering the required basic military training at the age of fifteen. But they had gone their separate ways when Aresenius chose a life in the military, while Cadmus applied his mind to the life of a detective. Still, their bond remained close and they met and chatted when able.

"Look, Cadmus," Arsenius encouraged, "I know your way is to say little. But I can tell something is wrong. Tell me. Maybe I can help you."

Cadmus took a breath. "It's…the consummare." He expected Arsenius to laugh in his face, but his friend had more sensitivity than that, only nodding thoughtfully.

"I should have guessed." Arsenius put his hand to his head for a moment, thinking of what to say. "It won't be difficult for you. There is an…instinct for it. You don't need to fear your ability."

Cadmus said nothing. He did not fear his ability, even though he had never committed the act. Cadmus was a turian who knew he could work his way through most everything. What he worried about was Laelia. How would she handle the consummare? If she couldn't even look him in the eye now, could she then?

"Thank you, Arsenius," Cadmus said, grateful for his friend's encouragement, even though it had not been helpful.

Arsenius grinned, mouth open, mandibles flared outward. "Enjoy her. It's one of the advantages of marriage."

* * *

The night wore on. Cadmus and Laelia saw nothing of each other, keeping to their own sides of the room greeting well wishers. When it was quite late, Cadmus' father hushed the music and signaled to Cadmus that the moment had arrived. The crowd went silent. Cadmus dutifully approached the stairs to the upper levels of the mansion and Laelia met him there, still refusing to look at him. Cadmus took her hand and they mounted the stairs side by side. She wasn't shaking now, and Cadmus was impressed by her self-control. He led her to a room far at the end of the hall. Noise filtered up from below as the party began again without them. He opened a door and gestured, letting her walk ahead. She entered slowly and sat down on the large bed.

Cadmus closed the door and turned to gaze on his wife. She continued to look down. He didn't want her to fear him. He found himself suddenly wishing he _had_ found a female to love. The females he'd come to know worked in security as he did and they were never silent. They bore the marks of strength and vitality. But they lacked the requisite social status. Oh, there were many females of high status who had made lives for themselves in the military. But the Soranus family would never have heard of their only daughter debasing herself in such a way. Their beliefs were still old world, from a time when males dominated turian society. They still dominated to an extent, but females had earned rights and privileges. Still, the Soranus family made sure Laelia's service to the state consisted in a serene job in the Corps of Engineers, working as an assistant to an administrator in the government who was also a family friend. They had groomed their daughter for a wealthy marriage, hoping she'd move up in the social status and they'd found their chance through the Vakarian family.

As Cadmus reviewed Laelia's history, he wished they hadn't removed all spirit from her. She would be a supremely boring wife, he feared. Yet, duty called. He walked over to her and sat down next to her. He reached a hand behind her back and pulled at the ties that held her dress over her thin frame. The dress slowly released its hold, leaving Laelia exposed from the waist up. She had a beautiful figure, Cadmus thought. He reached out a hand to caress her shoulder, but when he touched her, he felt a tremor flow through her body. She was scared. He pulled his hand back. He knew what he was supposed to do. To follow tradition, he had to consummate their relationship. This was the proper time.

He paused for a moment, removing his shirt, wanting to make her less uneasy as he became physically as vulnerable as she. He then reached out his hand again and touched her shoulder. She still shook. "Don't be afraid," he spoke softly, wanting to reassure her.

"I'm not afraid," Laelia's smooth and quiet voice spoke. Cadmus knew she was lying, but did so only to retain her honor. She was trying so hard to be brave.

Cadmus kept his hand on her shoulder and used his other hand to encircle her waist and pull her body close to his. "Look at me," he said, asking firmly, but not demanding.

Laelia raised her head to stare him courageously in the face. Her blue eyes fixed on him resolutely, but Cadmus, a trained security officer, saw through the front. She was, indeed, terrified. Was it so terrible being married to him? he wondered. _She doesn't even really know me. She knows facts alone. She doesn't know if I will hurt or protect her. She knows nothing about the real me_.

Cadmus suddenly felt his moral motions come strongly to life. If he took her now, she'd do her duty, but his moral sense would berate him for it. What honor was there in forcing a female to your will? He had a duty now to her, to protect his wife. Yes, this was the proper time, but it was not the only time. Tradition and duty did not have to be fulfilled right here and now. He could afford his wife a momentary reprieve.

Cadmus gently pushed Laelia away. He stood, undressed completely and then lay down on the bed, closing his eyes. He heard her stand, shuffle about the room, then lay down next to him.

"Thank you," her voice spoke almost inaudibly as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Cadmus' eyes flickered open. The room was dark. He didn't recall turning off the lights himself. Where was he? Oh, yes, wedding, Laelia. He turned his head slightly. She wasn't on the bed. He sat up. He didn't know what to think. He partially wondered if she'd fled. But as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark room, he discerned a stunningly slim figure at the window, lit from behind by moonlight.

He decided not to disturb her reverie and went to lie back down, but her quiet voice spoke, sounding loud in contrast to the room's silence. "You're a good turian, Cadmus Vakarian."

Cadmus rubbed his neck. He didn't know how he should respond to the unexpected compliment. Laelia turned and walked towards him. When she reached the bed, he saw she was completely naked. He was breathless at the sight of her beauty revealed in all its glory. She put her hands on his shoulders.

"I didn't think you'd spare me."

Cadmus felt his heart beat quickly and his chest rise and fall rapidly in response to being so close to Laelia's naked form. "It wasn't right," he said clearly.

"Now it is," his wife spoke certainly. She leaned into him and Cadmus fell back on the bed as she curled her own form around his.

* * *

Cadmus breathed heavily. His brother had regaled him with descriptions of the glories of lovemaking, claiming the superiority of the act to other forms of entertainment. Cadmus had always blown them off. What was sex but a biological act? Even a simple insect could have a sexual encounter. Cadmus had no interest in pursuing sexual relations. He saw no need for the act as a regular part of his life. Now, he thought as he lay on the bed, he had been wrong.

He lay on his side, face to face with Laelia. "Was it pleasing?" she asked gently.

Pleasing could hardly scratch the surface. The very act of uniting himself to her physically had enthralled him, opened up doors into his very soul he didn't know existed. Whereas before he had felt nothing but duty to Laelia, he now felt a warm sensation at the thought of her. It seemed their act of tradition had awakened in him a heretofore unrecognized desire to love and be loved by another.

"Greatly," Cadmus answered simply, not one who found it easy to voice his feelings.

"I'm happy you found me so pleasurable."

Cadmus drew his hand up to her face and gently ran a talon along her cheek. His mandibles flared outward for a moment, then closed as he savored her smell. "Tell me about yourself. I hardly know you."

In the dim light from the window, he saw Laelia's eyes lower. "There isn't much that you don't know. My life hasn't been intriguing."

"I mean, I want to know _you_. Describe yourself to me." A desire to know Laelia's heart and soul had taken over his mind.

Laelia raised her eyes. "Controlled, dutiful, respectful."

Cadmus stared. "No more than that?"

Laelia's mandibles flexed. "What more do you need to know?"

"What do you like to eat? What are your favorite pastimes? Who are your friends?"

Laelia chuckled softly. "You think of me as an independent female. I hardly know my own mind. It's been my parents' for so long."

Cadmus felt suddenly sorrowful for Laelia. He may have been forgotten by his father, but at least that afforded him the opportunity to know himself. He had an accurate assessment of who he was, what he was capable of. Laelia had been putty in the hands of her parents.

"I don't want to mold you," Cadmus said forcefully. "You can think for yourself now."

Laelia reached out a hand and set it on his chest, pushing slightly and staring into it.

"What are you doing?" Cadmus asked after a moment.

"Considering the heart inside the turian next to me." She then fixed him with her blue eyes. "You are not what I thought you would be. I thought you'd drill me with rules and regulations like your father."

Now Cadmus felt he identified the source of her earlier fear. She had placed upon him the actions of his father.

"Understand," Laelia went on, "It is not that I disregard the rules of our society. I respect them and I follow them, as is right. But a life regimented by rules and absent of heart breeds a life of sterility."

Cadmus took a long breath. In one sentence, Laelia had captured his childhood and maybe hers as well. He'd been bred to be a perfect son. Failing that, he'd become a perfect security officer. He should have felt fulfilled, achieving what every turian wanted: the height of his career. But he felt only apathy.

"Rules and regulations are the foundation of society," Cadmus spoke. "They must be adhered to. But you're right. A lack of heart removes the motivation for courage and heroism and love." Cadmus thought ironically he never would have added the last quality if not for tonight.

Laelia rolled over and pushed back on the bed, snuggling into him. Cadmus put an arm around her thin frame. "You aren't your father," Laelia stated.

Cadmus nodded to himself. He wasn't his father, he knew that. Until this night, he'd always considered that a bad thing. Maybe it wasn't after all.


	2. C-Sec

Cadmus ran a critical eye over Tarian Clineas, head of C-Sec on the Citadel. _This turian has seen better days_, Cadmus concluded. Oh, he'd heard tell of Clineas' innumerable successes over his fifty years of service, but looking at him now, one could be forgiven for thinking the tales held no truth. Time hadn't been kind to Clineas with his cracked plates and deep eye sockets. If he had to guess, Cadmus would bet Clineas had _antiquos_, a turian disease that attacked the bones of the aging. Clineas moved so slowly, Cadmus placed the accuracy of his diagnosis at 95%.

"Vakarian?" Clineas rumbled out, his flanging voice resonating deeply.

"Yes, sir," Cadmus responded dutifully. He may not have placed his confidence in the head of C-Sec yet, but as his superior, Clineas deserved respect.

"Hmph..."Clineas grunted, flipping through files on his computer. Cadmus waited several minutes for the elder turian to continue. He certainly hoped this first impression of C-Sec didn't bode ill regarding his decision to apply for an assignment on the Citadel.

Clineas sighed and reached up to scratch along a nasty looking crack on his forehead with one talon. Cadmus noted how the crack distorted Clineas' light blue tattoo, making it look like a lightning bolt flashing down the middle of his forehead, striking ground at the end of his nose. Observing how sluggishly Clineas moved, Cadmus thought the identification of this turian with a lightning bolt ironically out of character. Clineas drew his talon away from his forehead and tapped it on the desk. "Impressive record."

"Yes, sir," Cadmus replied confidently.

Clineas glanced up, fixing Cadmus with a penetrating gaze. "Is it confidence or arrogance I hear in your tone?"

The question caught Cadmus off guard, but this fact didn't show on his face. Years of security work had produced in Cadmus unlimited self-control. Still, the question unnerved him. He'd begun to think of Clineas as an oaf. Could it be the turian wasn't as oblivious as he seemed, that in fact, Clineas' apparent lethargy afforded him time to assess the character of his applicant? How could he answer such a direct and personal question without sounding conceited?

Cadmus coughed once shortly, sitting tall and still. "I have an accurate understanding of my abilities as described to me by my superiors." _There. I've appealed not only to myself, but to the evaluations he's viewing right in front of him._

Clineas' face revealed nothing concerning his assessment of the answer. Instead, he flicked his eyes back to the computer screen. "Your superiors hail your experience and natural ability for detective work. Glowing reports all. I don't doubt your skill." Clineas' eyes rolled back over to Cadmus. "C-Sec presents challenges unheard of on Palaven. Our crime will surprise you, test you. I need officers of character, not just action. I don't care as much about what you've done as who you are."

Cadmus returned Clineas' stare, unflinching. He'd become so used to being judged by his accomplishments, it was strange to hear this turian championing the importance of character. Not that Cadmus disapproved. Of course, character mattered. He just hadn't considered that an issue when he'd applied. His work spoke for itself regardless of his character. What should he do now? Laud himself? That certainly would make him appear arrogant.

"Then test me," Cadmus finally spoke with conviction, mandibles fluttering.

Clineas' mouth opened in a wide grin. "I don't have to. Your actions here reflect your evaluations. You're reserved, but this belies a honed mind. Dutiful, compliant, but assertive at the right times. I knew you were C-Sec material before you walked in my door. I didn't need Councilor Asina's recommendation to prove that."

Cadmus now thought it quite possible he'd misjudged Clineas completely. The turian had been feeling him out this whole time, seeking to confirm or deny what his evaluations stated. Relief flooded Cadmus' thoughts. Clineas' smile seemed to proclaim he'd passed the executor's examination.

"You _will_ be tested, but not today," Clineas went on. He reached over and snapped up a data pad, tapping on it with the tip of his talon. "How could we not accept a detective with such acclamations? You'll be an asset for certain. But let's not start you out too fast even so, hum?"

Cadmus relaxed in his chair. He'd been accepted. The challenges of the Citadel were now within his grasp. He was eager to start, but knew rules and red tape had to be submitted to first.

"I've sent your orders to Palaven security. They will let you go within two weeks. You'll then report here immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Cadmus replied, keeping any thought of smiling off his face.

"Good. Welcome aboard, Vakarian."

"It's an honor, sir."

"Dismissed."

Cadmus stood, bowed his head deferentially to Clineas and exited the executor's office. His cousin, Viator, pushed back from the wall across from the door. "Well?"

"I'm in."

"Yes!"

Cadmus now allowed himself a smile in reaction to Viator's enthusiasm. Viator had grown up in the Lentinus family, and as such, exhibited its infamous exuberance. Most turians disparaged such lack of restraint. However, the Lentinus family name was also synonymous with staunch loyalty and unflagging honesty. For this reason, its members were generally well esteemed.

"I'll take you to the Presidium to celebrate," Viator gushed on, clapping Cadmus heartily on the back and directing him down the hall.

"C-Sec pays well, then?" Cadmus asked, chatting with his cousin, but also taking the Citadel in as they walked, memorizing the lay out of his new home.

Viator grinned. "I'm single. My pay goes a long way."

"No girlfriends?"

"Plenty," Viator laughed. "But not right now."

Viator had always been able to get any female he wanted. He had the darker complexion most turian females favored and his unique striped red tattoos provided an instant conversation starter. Cadmus had assumed he would be the first of the cousins to marry, even though he was two years Cadmus' junior, but Viator hadn't made any moves towards marriage. _Of course, the Lentinus family is less formal_._ I doubt Viator's even been advised to marry._ Viator's mother was Cadmus' father's sister. His father hadn't approved of the match as Cadmus had gathered through various negative statements made at family gatherings. Regardless, Cadmus felt his aunt had made a choice that fit her own personality: strong, stubborn and determined to go her own way no matter what anyone thought.

"How's your new wife?" Viator inquired, green eyes twinkling.

"Fine."

"Come on, Cadmus. It's me. Open up."

Cadmus dipped his head for a moment, pondering how to describe the last four months. He had found living with Laelia entirely enjoyable. In fact, although he'd certainly wanted to take this trip to the Citadel, he'd hated being separated from her by such a long distance. Laelia had been raised for marriage; she met his every need easily. What he appreciated most about her was her uncanny ability to see right through others—including him. How many times in the last few months had she seen into his soul? He could always tell when she was looking right through him. It was strangely comforting to be known so well.

"My wife is all I could ask for. I don't regret our marriage."

"And…"

Cadmus sighed. Viator's openness had its downside. "And I care for her deeply."

"And…"

"What do you want me to say, Viator? Maybe you should tell me so I can say it and we can move on from this topic of conversation."

Viator shook his head. "I want to hear that my cousin Cadmus has been changed, that his wife has loosened his plates a bit."

Cadmus recognized the teasing tone in Viator's voice. "She fits me like a glove," Cadmus ventured to say. "She doesn't change me, she complements me." That was the description he had been looking for. Laelia had been created for him. At home on Palaven they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, each anticipating the needs of the other and meeting them as they were able.

Viator smiled approvingly. "That's a start." He stopped walking and gestured towards a bar on a terrace. "Share a drink with me."

Cadmus raised a hand indicating his acceptance of the offer. Viator pointed out a round table. As Cadmus sat down, Viator proceeded to the bar to order drinks. Cadmus lowered his eyes to peer over the railing next to the table and admire the clear waters of the Presidium lake. The artificial lake glistened, reflecting the light shining throughout the structure. Looking above, Cadmus noted the manufactured sky that perfected the illusion of an outdoor paradise. He'd been to the Citadel several times before, so none of it struck him as novel or exciting. He did, however, appreciate the fact that he would be bringing Laelia to a beautiful place. He planned on seeking out a posh apartment before he left.

Viator returned, plopping down into a chair across from Cadmus and pushing a glass filled with a green liquid his direction. Viator raised his own glass. "To family."

Cadmus nodded and held up his glass. "Family." He sipped at the warm drink, and smiled inwardly as Viator downed his entire drink in one go. _Still Viator all the way._

"Did Clineas tell you where you're to be assigned?" Viator asked, placing his empty glass on the table and fingering it absentmindedly.

"He didn't say," Cadmus returned.

"Probably Presidium. Newbies are usually assigned up here since nothing much happens."

Cadmus snorted and set his glass down harder on the table than he intended. "I didn't give up security on Palaven to play nursemaid to the privileged. This place," he waved his hand in an all encompassing gesture, "isn't where I intend to spend my time."

Viator smiled widely. "Dear old Cadmus. Well, perhaps your references will place you elsewhere. I didn't say _all _newcomers end up here. Just that it's typical."

Cadmus said nothing, stewing in the knowledge that he might be treated as less than his skill deserved. He'd risen to the height of his career on Palaven. Certainly his accomplishments meant he wouldn't be handed the easy cases first. _I'll probably end up tracking down lost baggage._

"Cheer up, cousin," Viator instructed his moody friend. "Even if you are stuck in the Presidium, I'm sure you won't be here for long."

Cadmus looked up gloomily. "How long were you here?"

"Ah, well, I'm enforcement. They _always_ start enforcement here. Don't want new hires getting their heads blown off right away."

"How long?" Cadmus repeated, sensing Viator's attempt to deflect the question.

"Two years before they transferred me to Bachjret ward," Viator replied sheepishly.

"_Two _years?"

"It wasn't my fault. There was an incident. I forgot my gun and if I'd had it…Well, that's the past."

Cadmus shook his head, disappointed. Viator may have been exuberant, but he was far from flighty. He could do better. "Not your fault," Cadmus droned out dubiously.

"No. I'm not saying anymore."

Cadmus wondered what Viator wasn't telling him, but he didn't pry.

"Besides," Viator continued, changing the direction of the conversation, "They have enough drug running trouble to keep you off the Presidium."

"How bad is it?" Cadmus asked, his tone serious.

Viator shrugged. "Not sure. I keep finding various regulated drugs during my arrests, though. I'd say it's gotten worse over my time here. The scuttlebutt is they can't find the main supplier."

Cadmus brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing it and thinking. _This_ was a challenge. If he could, he would have started on the problem immediately. Of course, he'd faced drug problems on Palaven, but they were few and far between. Most turians viewed a reliance on drugs as weakness of character and thus avoided them. In fact, addiction on Palaven was so rare that as long as drug use didn't interfere with a turian's work, he pretty much got a pass. Drug use outside Palaven was another story. Other species consumed them in dangerous quantities, often causing their own deaths. The worst he'd heard was Minagen X3, a biotic enhancing drug that's effectiveness heightened with large doses. These doses, however, usually turned out to be lethal. He understood why Citadel law regulated such drugs.

"I could find the supplier," Cadmus spoke aloud.

Viator laughed. "They've been trying to track down this major supplier for five years and you're just going to come in and finish the job?"

"You doubt I can?" Cadmus challenged, only partially playing with his cousin.

Viator crossed his arms over his chest. "Want to bet on it?"

"I don't even know if I'll be assigned the case."

"How about this…first drug case you're put on, you find the supplier, not the pusher mind you, the supplier. You do and I'll hand over 2,000 credits."

Cadmus blinked incredulously at Viator. "2,000? You're crazy."

"No, I'm just certain a newbie's not going to pull it off his first case on the Citadel."

Viator's calling him a newbie flustered Cadmus' ego. He stared down his cousin. "Fine. 2,000. I'll give it to Laelia to announce my victory over you."

"Ha!" Viator guffawed, defying Cadmus' confidence.

"Viator!" a voice interrupted their conversation. An asari hastened over to their table and sidled into a chair next to Viator without even being asked to join. She had a purple tint to her skin and was incredibly short for an asari. She leaned close to Cadmus' cousin.

"And _why_ haven't you called?"

"Been busy," Viator replied dismissively, clearly playing "hard to get."

"Right," the asari responded, obviously disbelieving Viator's excuse, yet displaying no anger. She clearly had the hots for his cousin the way she batted her eyes at him.

"Cillia, this is my cousin, Cadmus Vakarian," Viator introduced.

Cillia smiled and nodded, then turned her attention back to Viator. "You must be off duty now."

"Maybe I'm working a case with Cadmus."

"You're drinking and not in your armor," Cillia pointed out, giggling.

"Alright. You caught me," Viator admitted, patting the asari's arm.

"So…want to hit Purgatory for a little bit?" Cillia's face glowed in expectation.

Viator's eyes flicked up to Cadmus. Cadmus was grinning. "Want to come along?" Viator asked.

Cadmus pushed back from his chair and stood, shaking his head. "I need to make arrangements. See you in two weeks."

"Until then. Tell your new wife 'hello' for me. Can't wait to meet her …and collect my 2,000."

Viator stood and wandered down the hall, dwarfing the smaller asari that hung on his arm. Cadmus turned to find an elevator, heading to a realtor his father had already contacted and contemplating how a drug supplier could get stuff on and off the station without a hint to his or her identity.

* * *

As Cadmus' shuttle touched down on Palaven, he pushed drug running considerations out of his mind. Ever since Viator had challenged him, he'd dwelt on the problem. He'd even pulled up maps of the Citadel as he traveled, trying to figure out where and how to stash enough drugs to supply the seedier residents of the station. However, as soon as his shuttle hit ground, Cadmus turned off his omni-tool and transitioned his concentration to Laelia. He'd been gone for almost a week, traveling to and from the Citadel and staying long enough to set up a home. He hoped she'd be pleased. He'd purchased a palatial apartment in a small affluent district just off the Presidium. She'd be surrounded by the rich and powerful. If it had just been himself, he wouldn't have sought such prestigious surroundings. But Laelia was used to luxury and he didn't want to deprive her. He wanted to prove to her he could provide for her above and beyond what was required. True, his detective salary on the Citadel alone would never have sustained them, but Cadmus had always had good financial sense, saving nearly every credit he earned. He was more than solvent. Not to mention his father would never have heard of his son living in anything less.

As he stepped off the shuttle, Cadmus spied Lealia inside the port waiting for him. Although she didn't jump up and down like a child, he immediately caught her eye and she smiled broadly. Cadmus' heart warmed at the sight. The doom he had thought had taken hold of him at his wedding had been unfounded. After they'd overcome the awkwardness of their wedding night, their relationship had progressed at a strong and steady pace. He'd even begun to convince himself that perhaps at some point in the future, he might be able to call it love.

Cadmus entered the port, walked purposefully to Laelia, dropped his bag and grasped her shoulders.

"Welcome home," Laelia spoke in her soft, yet resilient voice.

Cadmus ran an eager eye over his wife. His breath caught in his throat every time he looked at her. She wore a form fitting suit of shimmering green. _Spirits, she's beautiful._

"It's good to be back," Cadmus replied genuinely.

"Our shuttle's waiting." Laelia motioned outside the port. Cadmus followed her to their private shuttle, handing his bag to a waiting civil servant who stashed it, then slid into the driver's seat to take them home. Once they were on their way, Laelia asked about his trip.

"So, what was the result?"

Cadmus smiled. "I begin work in two weeks. I've already set up our apartment."

"Good," Laelia affirmed, but Cadmus sensed a hint of uneasiness in her tone.

"Do you still want to go to the Citadel?" They'd discussed this before and Laelia had approved, but perhaps she hadn't been honest with him?

"Yes. Yes, I want to go." She faced him directly. "Honestly, I think it will be good for us to get away."

Cadmus understood what she meant. They had learned much about each other these four months. They had both been greatly affected by their parents—Laelia's parents played overbearing protectors, Cadmus' parents made themselves conspicuous in their absence. Now that they were married, both sets of parents seemed to pop up all the time unannounced, determined to make this marriage successful. _Like they have forgotten it's our marriage and not theirs_. Laelia had tasted freedom since she'd married Cadmus, and now parental influence grated on her. For his part, Cadmus despised the intrusion of his parents. They'd left him alone for so long, why care now? Going to the Citadel would afford Cadmus and Laelia the opportunity to be a couple alone.

"I agree," Cadmus assented. Laelia lowered her eyes again, a sign to Cadmus that something still wasn't right. "Then what's wrong?"

Laelia looked up, not at Cadmus, but the driver of the shuttle. "It's not the time to discuss the matter," she whispered.

Cadmus sighed and gazed out the window, watching the silver Inculta Mountains in the distance. He'd climbed those mountains many a time, tackling grueling treks to increase his endurance. Usually he'd carried his guns along to practice shooting. That was even before he'd had basic training. He'd proudly entered his mandatory service already an expert. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he'd flown through the training with ease and been able to advance so quickly to the heights of planet security.

Cadmus rolled his eyes back over to Laelia. She, too, was contemplating the passing scenery. If only Laelia's problems could be solved with a gun. He knew what bothered her. He'd figured it out when she'd deferred the matter until they had absolute privacy. He couldn't fix her problem. He could try, but there were no guarantees.

The shuttle pulled up to their mansion. They exited the vehicle as the driver retrieved Cadmus' bag and handed it to him. They both walked inside greeted by another civil servant who announced when dinner would be ready, then discreetly left them to themselves. Cadmus climbed the stairs to their bedroom. The telltale sound of footsteps behind him informed him that Laelia was following. As he unpacked his bag, Laelia sat on their bed, waiting patiently. Cadmus finished, then turned, ruminating on her bowed head.

"It takes time," he finally said, trying to encourage her.

She looked up, sorrow in her blue eyes. "Everyone expected it the first month."

Cadmus walked towards her, then sat next to her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her cowl. "There's nothing wrong with us."

"You can't be sure."

No, he couldn't be sure. But it was still too early for her to worry herself. "Four months is a very short time. Wait and be patient."

Laelia breathed out slowly. Cadmus knew she desired a child more than anything else. For turians, a fertile wife was a good wife. He knew the heavy burden society had placed on his wife—and he hated it. He didn't like that her value was tied to something so arbitrary as the ability to conceive. Yet, it was more than shame that saddened Laelia. She'd dreamed of her children all her life. He knew she would be a devoted mother. He was pleased his children would grow up in capable, trustworthy hands. Still, he didn't feel the immediacy Laelia did. He'd never spent time conjuring up images of his future heirs. Children hadn't been a thought on the horizon until his marriage. Now, he _had_ to consider them. They'd come. He was sure of it. They just had to persevere.

"Consider this," Cadmus suggested, letting go of her cowl and placing a gentle hand on her cheek. "Our lack of success gives us all the more reason to enjoy each other."

Laelia now smiled, cheered slightly. "Then let's," she spoke softly, gripping Cadmus' shoulders and drawing him down onto the bed.


	3. Team

Cadmus strode down the ramp of the ship from Palaven that had transported his household to the Citadel. They hadn't packed everything. They would maintain both the mansion on Palaven and the apartment on the Citadel. Cadmus figured they'd need a place to retreat from the bustle of the Citadel every once in a while. That, and when they did have children, Laelia would want to go back home for extended periods of time to visit her family. Currently, however, their attention focused in on the Citadel, ready to make the station home.

Cadmus heard Laelia's light steps pacing behind him as he sighted Viator waiting for them. His cousin wore his black and blue armor, either just off duty or going on duty soon. Viator motioned Cadmus over. When they met, they gripped each other's right wrists in a traditional greeting.

"Welcome back, cousin," Viator greeted heartily, grinning as he peered behind Cadmus.

Cadmus tilted his head to the right to glance backwards and waved his fingers to indicate Laelia should step up next to him. She did so, her keen eyes already assessing Viator.

"This is my cousin I mentioned to you. Viator Lentinus. Viator, my wife, Laelia."

Laelia bowed her head slightly. "Cousin Lentinus."

"Please, no need to stand on protocol. You're family. Viator will do just fine."

Laelia's mouth opened in a small smile. "Alright, Viator." Cadmus smiled inwardly as his cousin deftly disarmed Laelia's formality. Viator—always putting the females at ease.

Cadmus looked to the back of the ship. Their belongings were already being unloaded. "I need to direct our baggage…"

Viator waved a hand. "I've already seen to it. They know where to take it."

Cadmus nodded to Viator, appreciating his cousin's anticipation of their needs. "Well, then, would you like to accompany us to our apartment?"

"That's why I'm here. Don't want your first few hours to be lonely." Viator's eyes twinkled as he spoke.

Cadmus motioned towards an elevator. When they entered, the car climbed for quite a while until it reached the Presidium. It opened onto a spacious balcony designed to imitate an outdoor park. Plants from various environments and of various shades surrounded a large fountain jutting water into the air that crashed forcefully back down causing wide ripples in a turbulent pool. Several benches littered the area, most of them occupied by relaxing patrons that also happened to be turian. Cadmus had chosen their apartment specifically because it was situated in a district that housed wealthy turians. Laelia would feel at home.

"It's beautiful," Laelia breathed out. Cadmus couldn't help but smile. It was her first time on the Citadel. Until now, she'd had no reason to travel to the station. The awe on her face revealed the station's beauty had already made an impression.

"Just wait until you see our apartment," Cadmus spoke, the slightest hint of laughter in his voice.

Laelia and Viator followed Cadmus down several paths, turning corners and crossing hallways until he halted at a set of sealed double doors. Cadmus clicked on his omni-tool, fiddling with a panel to the right of the doors. The doors responded by sliding open.

"I've already programmed your omni-tool for the doors as well," Cadmus commented to Laelia, who nodded her acknowledgement.

Viator sucked in an appreciative breath. "You're certainly living better than me."

The doors had opened to reveal extensive grounds dense with foliage and scattered with statues reflecting turian artistry. To the left, the grounds were bordered by a balcony overlooking the Presidium. Along this balcony sat several turians at tables chatting and eating. To the right, apartment balconies overlooked the entire area. Cadmus cast a quick glance at Laelia and was pleased to ascertain the wonder in her eyes. He moved towards the apartments, directing his wife and cousin. As they walked, they passed beautiful architecture designed to imitate that of Palaven. Cadmus finally changed direction, entering an enclosed garden surrounded on three sides by several well-to-do apartment buildings. He steered Laelia to an elevator. Once they were aboard, it rose to the fifth floor, then opened onto a long hallway with doors at either end.

"There are only two apartments on this level," Cadmus explained, gesturing to the door on the left. "This is ours." Cadmus' omni-tool flashed on again as he unlocked the door. "Welcome home."

Laelia stepped into the room and stood stock still, her head turning right, then left as she took in the expansive suite. The parlor directly inside had been decorated in old world turian style. It was vast and flanked on two sides by doors. The one on the left led to four bedrooms. One would be theirs, of course. The others, perhaps for guests only now, but Cadmus hoped Laelia's desire would soon be met and children would occupy them. The door on the right led to a kitchen and study. He would have purchased an apartment with serving quarters as well, but Laelia had vehemently insisted that she did _not_ want civil servants on the Citadel. She had determined to make her own way on the station and not let servants take the joy of parenting away from her.

Laelia moved slowly to the left, entering the door. Cadmus motioned to a couch, indicating he and Viator could sit while Laelia scrutinized her new living arrangements.

"Going on duty?" Cadmus asked, sitting in a chair and trying to make conversation even though his mind was really occupied with Laelia's appraisal of the apartment. He tried to keep his eyes from flitting over to the left door, tried to suppress his desire to see her expression when she come back into the parlor.

"Just off," Viator said, stretching his arms above his head, then laying his right across the back of the couch and his left on his knee. Viator's eyes rolled around the room. "You really this coddled as a child?"

Cadmus sent a ferocious glare Viator's direction. "You _know_ I was never coddled."

"Come, Cadmus, I was just teasing," Viator protested his cousin's swift anger.

Cadmus sighed, forcing his ire back down. Viator had been privy to much of Cadmus' own childhood and knew his life had been dominated by his father's militaristic judgments. Living in luxury hadn't meant Cadmus got a pass. Quite the opposite.

Viator bent his head apologetically, then looked to the bedrooms. "Your wife is beautiful."

Cadmus eyed the door again. "Indeed." He looked back to Viator and now managed a grin. "Don't get any ideas."

Viator guffawed loudly. "I may love the females, but I would _never_ go there, cousin."

Cadmus knew that as well. Loyalty of the Lentinus' and all.

"Do you know where they've placed you?" Viator inquired.

Cadmus opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again when Laelia stepped back into the room. Her face was inscrutable at the moment. She walked swiftly to the other side of the apartment and through the door that entered the kitchen. Cadmus moved his attention back to Viator. "They haven't informed me yet."

Viator sat staring at him with a goofy grin. If they had been younger, Cadmus would have jumped up and punched the look off Viator's face. But they weren't children anymore. Cadmus held his ground even though he hated that his cousin was getting such joy out of the agitation Laelia so easily caused him.

"She will like it," Viator assured. "How could she not?"

"Yes, of course," Cadmus answered, but his nerves weren't quelled.

"Still hate the idea of the Presidium?" Viator ventured, providing Cadmus a distraction from his nervousness.

Cadmus snorted. "If I'm assigned there, I plan to file an official transfer request immediately."

"The Executor won't like that very much, your first act as a C-Sec officer flaunting his authority and decisions."

"Maybe," Cadmus assented, but he didn't care. He'd make his case. He'd already made it a thousands times over in his head. If they understood his reasons for coming to the Citadel and his value as an asset to them, they would reassign him for certain.

"It's perfect," Laelia's soft and solid voice spoke from the door to the kitchen. Cadmus turned to behold her face stoic, but her eyes delighted. Yes, she truly approved of his choice.

Cadmus nodded once to her, accepting her praise. He'd never thought a female would cause him such apprehension. Perhaps he should have been disturbed by this fact, but he found he strangely liked the emotions Laelia produced in him. There was something entirely exciting about depending on another for your happiness.

"Now, cousin Viator, I would like you to stay and I'll provide lunch," Laelia continued.

"I've got no other plans," Viator answered. "Sure."

Cadmus leaned back into his seat, satisfied. His wife liked the apartment and was getting along with his cousin. So far, their move onto the Citadel couldn't have gone better. All he needed to do now was face his assignment.

* * *

Cadmus had enjoyed a fine lunch with Laelia and Viator, then excused himself, wanting to impress Executor Clineas with his punctuality. He'd marched purposefully to the Executor's office, eager to learn his fate. Surprisingly, when he'd appeared at Clineas' office, the Executor had announced he would personally escort his newest detective to his assigned precinct. Cadmus wondered why the Executor felt the need to perform such a banal task usually handed to underlings. He worried slightly that Clineas might think he needed to be babied as the Citadel presented "unheard of challenges" in the Executor's estimation.

At first, Clineas made no mention of where Cadmus had been assigned. He'd simply commanded the detective to follow him and Cadmus had dutifully obeyed, being careful not to outpace his superior. Clineas walked firmly, but slowly. Cadmus recalled his assessment two weeks ago and his determination that Clineas had _antiquos. _His gait seemed to confirm Cadmus' suspicions.

Clineas said little as they walked. He did inform Cadmus that his armor and several types of weapons had been provided for him and were waiting for him in his new office. When they'd entered an elevator and headed to the Presidium, Cadmus swallowed hard to keep his frustration from gushing out of his mouth. Luckily, the trip was nothing but a waypoint. They transferred to another elevator, this one leaving the Presidium. Cadmus' hopes soared. Maybe finding lost baggage wasn't in his future after all.

As the elevator opened, Clineas' rumbling voice roiled out of his chest once again. "Bachjret Ward. Mainly turians here."

So, his first precinct in the Citadel resided in Bachjret, Viator's ward. It wasn't the Presidium, no. But it wasn't a dangerous or difficult ward either. Turians were overall law-abiding. Oh, they had their criminals for certain, but the percentage was quite low compared to all other known races of the galaxy. Cadmus stifled a sigh. At least he was in a ward. This must have been what Clineas meant when he'd stated during Cadmus' interview that he wouldn't start out too fast. He'd given Cadmus the opportunity to bloom in a familiar environment. _Give me a month_, Cadmus swore to himself, _and I'll be out of here._ He'd prove he was worth more than Bachjret.

Bachjret had been designed to reflect turian style. As they made their way to the precinct, Cadmus noted how it imitated Palaven's capital city, Cipritine. The shops, the entertainment venues, the restaurants, all of it was familiar. From the atmosphere, he guessed most of the ward to be inhabited by middle class, hardworking turians. Clineas pointed ahead after a while and Cadmus perceived the entrance to a C-Sec precinct. It was time to meet his co-workers. As Clineas approached the doors opened. He spoke briefly to the officer on duty, then proceeded through a network of hallways. Finally, he stopped in front of a door.

"They'd better all be here," Clineas grumbled out. "Knowing Decimus…" He eyed Cadmus and his statement died in his throat. Cadmus perceived the Executor's sudden realization that he'd been too vocal. Clineas cleared his throat and tapped the control panel next to the doors, causing them to slide open. He rose to his full height and entered the room. Cadmus echoed the Executor, making his entrance just as formidable.

The room contained a simple oval table covered with data pads. The walls boasted several large screens and their current contents were familiar to Cadmus—case files, surveillance films, pictures of suspects. The room looked very much like his own precinct back on Palaven. His co-workers, however, did not. Instead of a room full of turian officers, Cadmus noted two asari and a salarian sitting at the table. Only two turians occupied the room at the far end, each standing. Someone had been in mid sentence, but broke off when the door opened. Now, all five focused their attention on the newest member of their team.

"Decimus!" Clineas called out, gesturing to one of the turians already in the room. Cadmus observed the large, bulky turian that stamped heavily their way, limping on his right leg. Regardless of the limp, the turian towered like a giant. Cadmus thought the room should have shook with every step he took. He was at least a foot taller than Cadmus, and Cadmus knew he himself was considered tall. The turian was dark, a single, thick, white tattoo gracing his face from forehead to chin. His eyes were abnormally yellow. Most turians sported green or blue eyes. Occasionally there was the mix of yellow undertones. This turian's eyes, however, gleamed a bright, angry yellow. That was how Cadmus perceived them anyway. Decimus seemed to hate Cadmus the moment he fixed his eyes on him. Cadmus wasn't a turian to cower in fear, but this turian set his nerves on edge immediately.

"This him?" Decimus growled out, his voice as deep and dark as his skin.

"He's the one I've chosen and as such you will respect him as if he were me. Understand?"

Cadmus shifted an eye between Clineas and Decimus. The tension between the two was palpable.

Decimus grunted. "He doesn't look like much."

Cadmus felt his ego ruffle, but kept his peace. It wouldn't do to lose it his first day on the job.

"I sent you his record."

"Records," Decimus scoffed derisively. "Palaven raises weaklings."

Now Cadmus set his jaw and felt his gloved fingers ball up into fists. Who did this turian think he was, denigrating his own home planet?

"Decimus, if you get out of line again…" Clineas warned.

"He's welcome here," Decimus interrupted. "As long as he pulls his weight."

"I will," Cadmus spoke forcefully, finding his voice as he felt compelled to defend his skill.

"Will you?" Decimus asked, his tone doubtful. "Then listen and keep up." He rolled his eyes over to Clineas. "I can handle him from here."

Clineas moved away from Decimus, pausing at the door to lean in close to Cadmus so only he could hear. "You wanted your challenge, you got your challenge." The Executor strode quickly through the door after his parting words. Cadmus reflected on the Executor's tone of voice and found himself even more uneasy. He'd wanted challenging cases, not challenging bosses, but he was stuck now, no matter what he wanted.

"Let me introduce my team," Decimus called out loudly, his voice booming around the enclosed room. "This is Paeon." Decimus gestured to the end of the room and the other turian in the room raised a hand in greeting. Paeon was as gray as Cadmus and sported a dark green tattoo that radiated out from his nose, resembling a star. "He handles surveillance. Then there's Kepel." The salarian bent his head and smiled slightly. Cadmus noted the deep scar that ran along his left horn. "He's my tech expert. The two beauties they suckered me with are Selyna and Nissa." One of the asari smiled broadly and waved a hand at Cadmus. The other remained stoic. They were both a brilliant shade of blue, bright-eyed and quite thin. "They're my interrogators." _These_ asari were interrogators? Cadmus didn't know if he quite believed Decimus, but the turian didn't crack a smile and Cadmus didn't think his new superior would be able to joke even if he tried. "I'm your chief. You'll report directly to me and I will weigh the evidence." So, this was how Decimus ran his operation. His lackeys would do the dirty work and he'd make the decisions. No input. For a moment, Cadmus regretted his decision to come to the Citadel. His superiors back on Palaven had been far more egalitarian, of the opinion that collaboration led to positive results. Cadmus agreed. But even so, he steeled himself. He was here and he wouldn't bemoan his decisions. Let Decimus think he would fail. Cadmus would prove him wrong, just as he had his father. "This," Decimus concluded, "is our _new_ detective, Camdus Vakarian." Decimus spoke the word "new" as a curse. Cadmus clearly understood that his new boss had been forced to take him on.

"Welcome to the team," Paeon acknowledged, his deep voice sounding kind after Decimus' abrasiveness. Cadmus thought Paeon's tone meant to apologize for his superior.

"Yes, yes, Paeon, placate the newbie," Decimus growled. He turned his furious gaze to Cadmus. "You'll find your office out the door and down the hall to the left. Get suited up and get back here on the double."

"Yes, sir," Cadmus replied as confidently as he could. He made for the door and stepped into the hall. When the door shut behind him, he sucked in a long, slow breath. What in the world had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Cadmus found his office easily enough. A plaque to the right of the small room declared his name and occupation: Cadmus Vakarian, Detective. The room was sparse, a desk, computer, small chair and gun rack the only occupants save for a new set of armor set against the far wall. Cadmus walked over and picked up the chest plate, weighing it in his hands. It was good armor, standard C-Sec issue. Even detectives had to look the part. He changed quickly, folding and putting aside his green suit, then walked a few paces back and forth in the new armor. _Perfect fit. Well balanced._ Cadmus headed to the door. No need to antagonize his chief. He'd better get back as ordered.

As he walked back down the hall to the meeting room, he paused as he passed another office only a few steps away from his own whose tag proclaimed, Decimus Mehrkuri, Chief Detective. A sudden urge to peek inside dominated Cadmus' mind. Maybe a glance at his new superior's office would give him some kind of idea how to handle him. He knew he shouldn't pry, but he couldn't help but lean in for a moment so the door would swoosh open. He didn't enter, but he did peer in. The room was severely ordered, everything in its place and stacked as if it had been straightened just a few minutes before. There were no indications of Decimus' personal life. The only conclusion he could draw was that Decimus was methodical. No surprise there.

"If Decimus caught you looking at his stuff, he'd find a way to fire you immediately."

Cadmus jerked back, the door swooshing shut again. He turned to find one of the asari, the friendly one who had waved, standing behind him with her hands on her hips.

"Uh…" Cadmus coughed out, trying to think up some excuse.

The asari smiled widely. "I won't tell."

"Thank you," Cadmus breathed out, expressing his gratitude. "And you are…"

"Nissa. I know. My sister and I look alike. Most assume we're twins."

So, the interrogators were sisters. Even more intriguing.

"Chief sent me to find you. He thinks you're purposefully dawdling."

"Better not keep him waiting."

"I wouldn't advise it."

Cadmus fell into step next to Nissa as they walked back to the room. When they reached it, Nissa halted Cadmus' entrance as she brought a hand to his elbow. He looked down into her deep blue eyes.

"Don't let Decimus scare you. He hated each of us when we were first put on his team."

"Why?" Cadmus asked instinctively, then regretted it. He shouldn't have inquired into something so personal. It wasn't his business to know why Decimus did what he did.

Nissa shook her head. "No idea. None of us has ever mustered the courage to ask. Point is, Decimus is a good detective. He may be hard to like, but he's good at what he does."

Cadmus nodded, receiving the message and made for the door again but Nissa held his elbow firmly in her grasp. She was stronger than Cadmus would have assumed at first sight.

"And anyway, you're taking Aiolus' place on the team." Cadmus continued to stare at Nissa, indicating she needed to explain further. She sighed. "His brother. He was called home for some reason. Decimus won't say why and we definitely aren't going to ask."

Nissa let go of Cadmus' arm and marched resolutely into the room, leaving Cadmus with more to contemplate than Decimus' office had given him. He didn't have long to ruminate, however, as a rough voice shouted out.

"Get in here, Vakarian!"

Cadmus swiftly entered the room. The entire team was standing at the ready.

"Take your own good time, don't you?" Decimus grumbled. "Time to bring in a suspect. Paeon, take him with you and fill him in."

Paeon strode over to Cadmus and gestured with one finger, indicating Cadmus should walk next to him. Cadmus acquiesced, pacing next to the turian. So, there would be no adjustment period, just immediate action. Good. The sooner he got on a case, the sooner he'd earn Decimus' respect and shove the chief's pompous attitude right back down his throat.


	4. Day 1

Paeon marched purposefully down the hall, passing Bachjret's entertainment district and heading for its living quarters. "There've been a number of recent thefts in the area, home break-ins. No one injured, no one at home at the time, but several expensive items taken."

Cadmus cocked his head as he listened and paced next to Paeon. So, his first case wouldn't bring him any closer to winning his bet with Viator. No drugs, simple theft. Why was he even going along on the arrest? "Should I have brought a gun?" he questioned.

Paeon glanced Cadmus' way. "No need. Enforcement handles arrests."

"Then why are we going?"

Paeon drew in a breath. "Two reasons. One, I need to confirm we arrest the correct culprit. And two, no offense, but I'm sure Decimus wants you out of his sight for awhile."

Cadmus could understand the first reason, but not the second. What was Decimus' problem with him? His chief didn't even have the decency to simply give him a chance?

"I reported the surveillance that led us to our suspect," Paeon explained further. He flashed on his omni-tool and fiddled with it for a few seconds. Cadmus' own omni-tool vibrated, indicating he'd received a new file. He turned it on and found Paeon had sent him the video surveillance he'd captured. Cadmus viewed it as he walked, watching as a short, fat suited alien waddled in and out of several apartments carrying various objects of value.

"A volus," Cadmus stated.

"Yes and a well known one. He's been hired by several turian merchants in the area to broker deals for them. Seems he decided to cut some corners by stealing back what was sold."

Paeon slowed down his step and pointed ahead. Three turian C-Sec officers stood at the entrance of a long hall. Paeon approached them. "Go get him." One of them nodded and took the lead followed by the other two. Cadmus and Paeon came last in the procession. They walked down the long hallway, turned to the right and came to the end of another. Cadmus and Paeon held back while the lead officer punched the chime for entry. Only a moment passed before the door opened and a volus appeared.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice distorted by the filtered mask he wore.

"Furin Par?" the C-Sec officer inquired.

"Yes…" the Volus answered warily, the tone in the officer's voice alerting him to possible trouble.

"You are under arrest and must proceed with us to the precinct."

"But…but…" the Volus stammered, his arms flailing about, "I've done nothing wrong!"

Paeon had been intently staring down at his omni-tool during the conversation and now looked up. "Voice match confirmed. Take him in."

"Sir," the officer acknowledged, then nodded to his two companions who escorted the volus out of his apartment by pulling on his stubby arms.

"It wasn't me! Whatever it is, it wasn't me!" the volus continued to protest, drawing curious looks from passersby.

"I have a warrant. Let's take a look inside," Paeon said, halting Cadmus' first step to follow the officers. Cadmus changed direction and followed Paeon into the volus' apartment. It was comfortable but not palatial and they soon searched it all. No evidence of the stolen items turned up, but Paeon declared he wasn't surprised. He hadn't expected the Volus to store the offending items in his own home.

"Let's go," Paeon finally said and they headed back to the precinct. As they walked, the successful conclusion of their mission seemed to free Paeon's tongue a bit as he turned to more social conversation with Cadmus.

"I take it you're from Palaven what with Decimus' comment."

Cadmus nodded his head remembering Decimus' contempt for the turian home planet, asserting it raised weaklings.

"Cipritine?"

"Outskirts, in the country side," Cadmus replied. He didn't feel the need to mention he grew up in high society. Every one always assumed that to be wealthy meant ease of life and weakness of character.

"I thought you probably lived in or near the capital. Your earnest patriotism was obvious. Decimus made you more than annoyed. You were quite angry." So Paeon was observant. Of course, that only made sense considering his line of work.

"I was," Cadmus admitted. No sense in denying what the turian had clearly seen. Cadmus also realized that if Paeon had seen it, then Decimus had as well.

"You at least had the self-control to keep your emotion to yourself." Paeon's tone of voice alluded to the fact that he had failed in this respect.

Cadmus turned a questioning gaze on his teammate.

"The first day I arrived and he denigrated Palaven, I met him in his office and attempted a _macto_."

Cadmus pursed his lips together in seriousness. The _macto_ was a holdover relic from turian past, a time when fighting to retain honor was a daily affair. It was a serious fight, not for the squeamish and not to be hastily entered. Although the combatants were not intended to kill one another, it was a fight with no holds barred. The combatants pummeled each other until one of them submitted. Problem was, few turians were willing to submit until they had been completely incapacitated.

"Attempted?" Cadmus probed, recognizing Paeon's choice of words pointed to the fact that a _macto_ between himself and the chief had never occurred.

"Decimus refused."

To refuse a _macto_ was supposed to reveal cowardice. Apparently, Cadmus' new chief could care less about how he was viewed.

"But I insisted," Paeon went on. When the turian paused for too long, Cadmus couldn't help but prompt a conclusion to the story.

"And…"

Paeon turned playful eyes on Cadmus and laughed. "He broke my nose."

"So you _did_ have the fight?"

"No, he just punched me in the face as hard as he could right there in his office. Knocked me to my feet and then announced that I didn't want to fight him. After the punch, I figured he was right."

Cadmus' face clouded in concern. Although Paeon seemed to find the entire event humorous in hindsight, it bothered Cadmus. Decimus was willing to physically assault his own team to get what he wanted. The more Cadmus learned about his new chief, the more he despised him.

"Look," Paeon protested, his tone suddenly defensive as he read Cadmus' facial expression. "I was young and stupid. I shouldn't have even challenged him. He made his point quite vividly. If we _had_ fought, I'd probably have ended up in the hospital for weeks."

"It was still wrong for him to speak about Palaven in such a manner," Cadmus returned, his anger bubbling to the surface again. Decimus apparently had his entire team on his side, so willing were they to defend him. First Nissa, now Paeon. _Do they speak up for him out of loyalty or fear?_

"He has his reasons," Paeon answered quietly, increasing his gait to put some distance between himself and Cadmus, clearly not willing to say anything further. They walked the rest of the way in silence, Cadmus brooding over the information he'd received. He was slowly building a profile of his new chief and the character qualities emerging didn't encourage him. Decimus was hard handed, prejudiced, unpatriotic and upset over his brother leaving the team. Cadmus realized he'd have to tread carefully. And if things got out of hand, he had no qualms about taking his concerns to Clineas.

When they entered the precinct, Paeon directed Cadmus to the conference room. Kepel still sat at the large oval table, tapping away on a data pad. He looked up at them momentarily, then concentrated on his data pad again. Voices in an intense conversation projected from a screen on the wall. Cadmus sat down next to Paeon as they observed the interrogation of Furin Par happening in an interrogation room somewhere in the precinct.

"I didn't…You don't understand…I wasn't stealing, not really…At least, I wasn't trying to," Furin Par was insisting, his little hands slapping the table in emphasis.

"Maybe you forgot that you deposited extra money in your account. I've done that before," Nissa spoke, her voice velvety soft.

"Or perhaps you want years added to your imprisonment as you continue to lie," Selyna argued, her tone deadly serious.

Cadmus comprehended immediately that Nissa played good cop, Selyna bad cop. As he watched, he also concluded they were quite good at the game, some of the best he'd seen. They were skilled, played off one another easily and seemed to read each other's minds. He determined the volus didn't stand a chance against them. He also admitted that his initial assumptions concerning the two asari were wrong. They looked like fragile innocents without a hint of bite, but they had a bite indeed.

"Good, aren't they?" Paeon asked, clearly enjoying Cadmus' reaction to the interrogation.

"Very good," Cadmus agreed.

"You wouldn't think it to look at them," Paeon conceded, turning his eyes back to the screen. "Their dad's a krogan."

That explained some of it, then. They weren't the ruthless asari justicars Cadmus had heard about but they did have krogan randomization in their DNA that he assumed enhanced both their wiliness and their aggressiveness.

"Based on his financial records, I am 98% convinced Furin Par has an accomplice," Kepel's staccato voice rang out behind Cadmus. He turned to look at the salarian who still pounded away on his data pad, sending his conclusions to the asari in the interrogation room.

"The amount of money in your account is indicative of regular pay offs," Selyna informed the volus, shoving a data pad over to him.

The volus wrung his hands in fear. "I…I…"

"Just tell us who paid you. It will go so much better for you if you do," Nissa kindly pleaded, her voice laden with empathetic sorrow for the volus' current predicament.

"I…I…"

"I've had enough!" Selyna exploded. "Let's hand him over to the Executor."

"Wait! No!" Furin Par cried out, his filtered voice cracking. "It's just…I can't tell you…If I did…They'd kill me."

"Who?" Selyna demanded.

"Look, that recording you have. It's not what you think. I wasn't stealing them back. I was…I was…"

"What _were_ you doing?"

"I…I…" The volus jerked his head back and forth between the two sisters then his hands came to his face and what sounded like sobs ushered out from his face mask. "It's no use, no use. I did it. I stole the items to resell. Yes, yes, I did. There's no one else, just me. I just pocketed extra money from the sale, that's all."

Cadmus had known the asari sisters would force the volus to confess. The problem was he didn't believe the confession. "Kepel, are you really so certain Furin Par has an accomplice?" He looked back at the salarian who stared at him appreciatively.

"He _has_ been paid off. The amount of money indicates someone else is involved."

"What was he paid for?" Cadmus wondered aloud.

"To steal," Paeon concluded as if this was obvious.

But Cadmus didn't think so. His intuition screamed at him that something deeper was going on here.

* * *

Cadmus stood nervously outside Decimus' office, steeling himself to ring the chime. The chief had signed off on Furin Par's confession, but Cadmus was certain at least part of it was false. The volus did not act alone. Cadmus had spent the last several hours of his first day on duty scouring the volus' financial records. He recognized that although Kepel's estimation was entirely positive, there was no definitive proof of anyone paying the volus. Mysterious large sums just popped up in Furin Par's account. The fact that they were not traceable bothered him more than anything. If the payouts had been above board, their origin wouldn't have needed to be hidden. He'd also determined that the amounts of the deposits certainly weren't for petty thieving. No criminal in his right mind would pay so much just to get someone to resell previously purchased merchandise.

Cadmus' talon hovered over the control pannel outside Decimus' office for a moment before he slowly lowered it. He knew he was right. If he explained his reasoning accurately, he could at least get the chief to review the financial files before sending Furin Par along the line. Still, he found himself reluctant to bring the matter up. He didn't want to repeat Paeon's experience and show up back home with a broken nose. What would Decimus do if he assumed his new detective was brazenly bucking his authority?

_I am not a coward. Ring the chime._ Cadmus sucked in a deep breath and quickly punched the chime before he could change his mind.

"Enter," Decimus' deep voice called out sharply as the door whooshed open.

Cadmus stepped inside, trying to appear confident and calm, standing as erect as possible. "Sir."

Decimus looked up and when he saw Cadmus inside the door, his eyes narrowed. He leaned back in the seat behind his desk. "What is it?" He sounded annoyed and impatient.

"Sir, I'd like you to take a look at some evidence."

Decimus tilted his head in a way that suggested wariness over whatever Cadmus had intruded upon him to discuss. "Concerning what?"

Cadmus kept his voice steady. "Furin Par."

"Your first case and you already want to second guess my reasoning, is that it?" Decimus challenged.

Cadmus braced himself. He had expected this kind of a response, hadn't he? He could deal with his boss' derision. He forged ahead. "I've gone over his financial records…"

"Kepel already did that and reported to me."

"I know, sir." Cadmus felt his nerves rattle. This must look like utter rebellion to his new chief. "I know Kepel thinks Furin Par was being paid off by a possible accomplice and I am inclined to agree with him."

"Paid off to do what?" Now Decimus seemed slightly interested. _Maybe he'll hear me out after all_.

"It can't be to steal back the items."

"Why not?"

"It's too much money. He has received regular deposits to his back account from an untraceable source. I believe there is something deeper going on here, sir."

"Perhaps." Decimus brought his hands together and tapped them against his lips, apparently thinking. _He's listening. He'll see reason_.

"Vakarian," Decimus finally spoke, his voice loud in the small office. "Do you know why this station is such a challenge?"

Cadmus was confused by Decimus' departure from the topic of Furin Par's bank accounts. It took him a moment to respond and stammer out, "Um…The number of races co-existing here."

Decmius raised a hand, indicating he'd answered correctly. "Races from every planet in the galaxy converge on _this_ station. The only other place that can rival its diversity is Omega. Do you know what Omega's like?"

Cadmus still didn't understand where Decimus was heading with this. But he _had_ been to Omega a few times tracking down leads while employed on Palaven. "A cesspool of criminal activity."

"Exactly," Decimus affirmed, now standing and shuffling over to a small shelf tacked onto his office wall. "Omega is chaos." Decimus picked up a heavy and rare object. It landed with a thud when he turned and plopped it down on his desk. "You know what this is?"

Cadmus knew, but he hadn't seen one except in exhibitions of ancient artifacts from across the galaxy. It was a book. It had a cover and physical pages, though they stuck out unevenly indicating a lack of workmanship.

"A book, sir," Cadmus responded, skimming the cover with his eyes, curious as to what was inside.

"No one's made these in millennia. I had to track down the material myself." Decimus opened the cover and flipped several pages. Cadmus discerned that no machine had produced the book. Someone had written it by hand and in the turian language. "This contains all the rules that govern the Citadel."

Cadmus sucked in a breath as two thoughts flashed in his mind almost simultaneously. The first was _No wonder it's so large_, and the second, _Who in his right mind would write them all down when he can just scan through a data pad?_ He immediately perceived the answer to his own question. He stared at Decimus and the turian nodded.

"I wrote every line. Years of effort. You know why I did that, Vakarian?"

Cadmus shifted on his feet. "I don't know, sir."

"Because I wanted to make every rule a part of me. I wanted to _be_ what keeps this station together. Every single law they ever instituted in this place is etched in up here." Decimus tapped the side of his head with a talon. "This place," here he gestured across the whole room, indicating the entire station, "doesn't fall apart because these rules keep it in place. Without them, order would disintegrate as every race that placed foot on this station declared its own laws supreme. We'd have the chaos of Omega. This," he tapped the book, "keeps them all towing the line."

Cadmus understood what Decimus was telling him. Law was certainly important everywhere, but more so here. Races with various worldviews wouldn't be able to co-exist unless they all submitted to a law code regulating appropriate behavior while together. The purpose of C-Sec's existence itself was to keep the Citadel running smoothly. However, he still hadn't connected the dots between Decimus' speech and Furin Par.

"I understand, sir," Cadmus said, admitting he got Decimus' point. "However…"

"I want you to let this line of inquiry regarding the volus go, you got me, Vakarian?"

Cadmus scrutinized his chief. How did Citadel rules lead to that conclusion? Wasn't he doing his job as a C-Sec officer by following the evidence where it led?

"Kepel's hunch is sound. If you would just look at what I found…" Cadmus made to hand his data pad to Decimus, but the chief pushed it away.

"There is nothing to be done about the volus now. He's confessed, he's charged, that's it."

"Sir…"

Decimus now stepped right up to Cadmus, glaring him straight in the eye. "I've given you an order. You. Let. This. Go."

Cadmus swallowed hard, angry. He clenched his jaw and just barely managed to civilly murmur, "Yes, sir."

Decimus pulled back. "Good." He walked back to his desk, snapped up the book and shoved it into Cadmus' hands. Cadmus grasped it awkwardly, almost dropping it what with the suddenness with which it was given him. "Memorize them, then give it back to me."

Memorize _all_ of them? There must be hundreds…thousands. He'd already familiarized himself with the basics. Most of the rules were similar to Palaven's. He didn't need to know them word for word. He almost said so, but Decimus scowled at him so ferociously, Cadmus simply nodded.

"Dismissed," Decimus stated.

Cadmus turned to leave, but as the door swooshed open, he stalled when Decimus spoke once more. "I've got a motto and you'd do well to learn it." Cadmus glanced back. "Do things right or don't do them at all. Read it, Vakarian, and then maybe you're _highly intelligent_ mind will deign to accept my reasoning regarding the volus."

* * *

Cadmus stood dumbfounded outside Decimus' office, the book a heavy burden in his arms. He'd found a way to be an asset on his first day and his chief could care less, just blew him off with a lecture regarding the importance Citadel rules. Cadmus' blood boiled as he considered the book in his arms. He felt the sudden urge to find the nearest garbage chute and throw the book in, rejoicing at its incineration. Of course, he knew he wouldn't do that, not only because it would cause Decimus to hate him even more, but because he could never bring himself to defy authority so openly. He'd learned too well how to be a good turian.

As he contemplated his anger, he heard a sudden snickering down the hall. Looking up, he saw his teammates standing all together, laughing at him. Had they heard the whole encounter? He felt like a fool standing there in front of them.

Nissa, who had been the one giggling most, sauntered down the hall, her shapely hips swinging back and forth. "We're not laughing at you," she assured good-naturedly. "We're laughing because you're holding the book." She reached out and took the bound pages from Cadmus, shifting the manual back and forth in her hands. "He always manages to give it to you some time in your first week. We had a wager on how long it would take you to get it." She looked back down the hall. "Selyna owes me a hundred credits." Selyna shook her head in disappointment, but smiled even so.

"I won, too," Kepel proclaimed.

Nissa pushed the book back into Cadmus' chest. "You'd better read it and try to remember what you can. He'll quiz you." She wasn't joking now, Cadmus could tell. Inside, he sighed. He'd have to take the book seriously, then.

"Come on," Nissa said, grabbing Cadmus by the elbow and pulling him down the hall towards his other teammates. "We're going to The Flaming Core for a drink."

"I should go home…"

"We always go out," Selyna explained. "We always have a victory drink after an arrest."

"Just come. You're part of us now," Paeon added. There was that kind voice again, the third turian member of the team trying to make up for the boss.

Cadmus dipped his head. "Alright," he agreed. Nissa whooped and the team headed towards the door of the precinct. Cadmus followed, still carting the tome of Citadel rules. He didn't really feel like a drink. His day had been a dismal failure in his estimation. Still, he desired to be a team player and as such, recognized the value of social interaction.

* * *

The club the team chose was still in Bachjret, and thus crowded with turians more than any other race. Still, members of other races peppered the bar in small numbers. For instance, Selyna, who had been commissioned to order the drinks, hadn't returned yet, apparently because she'd been engaged by a krogan at the bar. Cadmus watched their interaction, amused. Selyna had seemed the more reserved of the two asari sisters, but the animated way she interacted with the krogan suggested otherwise. She certainly concealed her energetic nature well when on the job.

Cadmus heard the sound of a glass being plunked down on the table and looked down in front of him at a blue hand delivering his drink. He looked up to the sight of Nissa's mischievous face, a broad smile playing across it.

"I got tired of waiting," she laughed, sipping her own drink and following Cadmus' eyes as he turned his attention back to Selyna and her conversation at the bar. "That's dad," Nissa informed him, eyes twinkling.

"What are they arguing about now?" Paeon asked, swallowing a swig from his drink.

"Who knows," Nissa spoke dismissively, throwing back the rest of the liquid in her glass and setting it on the table.

"Your dad comes here often?" Cadmus pondered aloud.

"Usually at least once a month. He claims his visits are just business, but he always manages to check up on us at the same time." She grinned at Cadmus. "He beat my first boyfriend almost to death."

Cadmus didn't like the way she announced that fact or the way she was looking at him. He was starting to feel like an insect trapped by a spider. He turned his face away from her, uncomfortable, and concentrated on the other members of the team. Kepel was keeping silent, sipping his drink at regular intervals and rubbing one of his horns. Paeon had leaned back in his chair, relaxing after a long day. Cadmus felt a sudden urge to ask Paeon what he had meant earlier when they'd discussed Decimus' attitude towards Palaven. Paeon had said that Decimus had his reasons. What were they? Cadmus bit his tongue. He didn't know his team at all. He couldn't be sure that something he said here wouldn't make its way back to his chief.

"Dance with me, Cadmus," he heard Nissa's voice request in a sultry tone.

He reluctantly turned back to her. "Look, I'm…"

"Married," she finished. "I read your info when they sent it over. That doesn't mean you can't have a good time."

"Your father…"

"Doesn't care anymore. I can do whatever I want."

"I don't want to offend you, but…"

"Just dance," Paeon interrupted. "She'll hound you until you do. Trust me. She was after Kepel for five months."

Kepel paused mid-sip. "It was not worth the hassle. I concur with Paeon. Dance now."

"Come on," Nissa insisted. "Have some fun. Show me some turian dance moves."

Cadmus knew few popular dances. The dancing he'd grown up with was formal and traditional. "I probably don't know any dances you'd be interested in," he protested, making his excuse.

"Then teach me something new," Nissa begged, "I'm always willing to learn."

Would she really keep this up until he gave in? How annoying. Cadmus slowly pushed back in his chair. "One dance."

Nissa blinked her eyes in excitement and stood, striding to the dance floor. Cadmus cautiously followed her. When he reached her, he was surprised to discern sober concentration on her face as she anticipated learning a new dance. He decided to teach her the easiest dance he knew and the one most comparable to popular dances. It also fortunately involved little physical contact. Nissa listened and copied his movements, commenting here and there about the rigidness of the dance. She caught on easily. Cadmus had to admit her skill came naturally. After a while, he found himself enjoying dancing with someone so capable. He faltered, however, when Nissa threw off all pretense of formality.

"So, tell me about this wife of yours."

Cadmus missed a step and from the way Nissa smiled, he could tell she was pleased she'd made him fumble. He began to wonder if all asari were this manipulative. He tried to regain his composure as quickly as possible. "It's not appropriate to discuss her with you."

"Why not? Paeon's told me all about his."

Cadmus filed away the new information (Paeon was married), then addressed Nissa. "Perhaps he has. But I will not sully my wife with idle gossip."

"Can she dance?"

What did Nissa not understand? He _wasn't_ going to expose Laelia to her insatiable desire for intimate knowledge.

"I said…"

"I heard you," Nissa pouted, reaching out to pat Cadmus' shoulder as if he were a wounded pet. Her touch lingered too long causing Cadmus to pull back.

"I danced with you. That's enough," he proclaimed. He left the dance floor and made his way back to the table. He sat down next to Paeon trying not to glance back, but failed. Nissa had disappeared.

"Watch out for her. She has a thing for turians," Paeon muttered quietly, finishing his drink.

Cadmus took a sip of his own drink, trying to calm his flustered state, upset at himself for letting the asari get to him. "So you and she…"

Paeon shook his head. "Not that she didn't try."

Cadmus cleared his throat and, wanting to wash the awkwardness away, decided to engage Paeon in conversation. "She said you have a wife. Is she here?"

"No," Paeon said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "She's on Palaven." He paused for a moment, then added by way of explanation, "She's got a large family."

Cadmus could tell Paeon wasn't happy about his situation. Either his wife was so tied to her family she refused to come with him or her family had a strangle hold on her and hadn't allowed her to come. Cadmus felt sorry for Paeon. He couldn't imagine living without Laelia, even though they'd only been married for a short time. He'd come to depend on her. He'd worked her into every area of his life except his job. He'd begun to wonder how he'd even managed to live without her.

"_You_ have a wife?"

"Laelia," Cadmus answered, willing to reveal more to Paeon than Nissa now that he felt a bit of camaraderie with the turian. "She's here."

"Ah," Paeon intoned. "You're fortunate, then. Sibia's family…" Paeon halted when a familiar voice called out.

"Cadmus!"

Cadmus glanced up to see Viator heading swiftly towards his team's table. Although Viator had interrupted his first real conversation with Paeon, Cadmus welcomed his cousin's friendly presence. Viator's good nature could help him forget all the frustration of his first day on the job. He noticed the slip of an asari he'd been introduced to when he'd come to interview hanging on Viator's arm. He thought back. _Her name…Yes, Cillia_.

"Viator! Join us," Cadmus greeted.

Viator plopped down into a chair, as did Cillia, sliding her chair close to his cousin and grinning from ear to ear as she gazed at him with admiration.

"How you doing, Paeon?" Viator asked, acknowledging the other turian's presence.

"Fine," Paeon replied. "How's the beat?"

"Most days are quiet. Missed you taking in that volus. Kaius told me about it."

"He went too easily. You would have been disappointed."

"Yeah, I guessed that." Viator paused a moment to smile at Cillia, then turned to Cadmus. "So, where'd you get placed?"

"Here. Bachjret."

"Oh." Viator's eyes flicked over to Paeon for a moment then back to Cadmus. "So…Decimus' precinct?"

Cadmus sensed Viator's uneasiness and narrowed his eyes as he responded. "Yes."

"Ah. Good. Well, I mean…" Viator swallowed his last words.

"Viator, why are you…"

"Viator!" Nissa's voice rang out loudly.

"Hey, Nissa," Viator greeted the asari hesitantly, looking up at her as she approached the table. She was all smiles until she laid eyes on Cillia, then her demeanor became cold as ice.

"What are you doing with _her_?"

Viator rubbed the back of his neck. "We're back together."

"Oh are you?" Nissa asked, her tone dripping with vehement disapproval. Cadmus noted that Cillia was sending daggers of her own in Nissa's direction.

"Yes, well, I've got duty in an hour or so. Let's go, Cillia. I'll see you around, Cousin." Viator stood quickly and he and his current girlfriend left the area as quickly as they'd arrived.

"Of all the…Can you believe that?..._Her?_" Nissa grumbled, then stomped over to the bar where Selyna was chatting with a turian. The krogan was gone. Nissa began to talk to Selyna, obviously angry. By her body movements, Cadmus could tell Selyna was trying to instill calm into her sister.

"How _do_ you handle her?" Cadmus inquired aloud.

Paeon laughed. Kepel answered in his calm staccato. "Stay out of her way. Be professional."

"But mostly," Paeon inserted his two bits, "Make sure Selyna's around."

"Viator is your cousin," Kepel stated, changing the subject abruptly.

Cadmus nodded to him.

"This is not good."

Cadmus tilted his head. "What?"

"He's right," Paeon agreed, eyeing Cadmus with concern.

"Why is that a problem? Because of Nissa?"

Paeon drew in a long breath and put his hands behind his head. "That's not it. Just…you should talk to your cousin." With that, Paeon turned his attention to another place in the bar as did Kepel, unmistakably insinuating that it wasn't their place to let him in on his cousin's affairs.

* * *

When Cadmus returned home, he ate a quiet dinner with Laelia, glad to be back in a place of solitude, away from the greater station. He wistfully imagined he was back on Palaven. What had compelled him to give up the ease of his home planet for this tempestuous station? He tried to push the day away and concentrate on Laelia. She'd made friends with the turians next door, strolled the gardens and parks near their apartment and scouted out the stores nearby. Her day, at least, had been filled with the exhilaration of exploration. When Laelia inquired into his day, Cadmus said little, sticking to objective fact and the arrest of the volus. He felt no need to pull her into his troubles.

When they finally retired to bed and Laelia snuggled close to him, Cadmus let himself review the day's events. Decimus was trouble. He hated Palaven and hated Cadmus. His attitude would make Cadmus' job as difficult as possible. Then there was Nissa who had a thing for turians and seemed to have set her sights on Cadmus no matter his marital status. And apparently being related to Viator was another strike against him as well. On top of it all, the true motive for the confession of the volus Furin Par continued to eat at him. He dejectedly realized the entire deck had been stacked against him from day one.

"What are you thinking about?" Laelia's soft, inviting voice inquired.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," Laelia protested quietly. "All through dinner I saw it. Something's wrong."

Cadmus breathed out slowly. "They're my worries not yours." He felt Laelia's hand clasp his.

"I'm your wife. What you bear, I'll bear."

"I know you would. But these are trifles. You don't need to take them upon yourself."

Laelia squeezed his hand and Cadmus hoped his attempt at dissuading her had worked. She said nothing for a long while. After a time, her voice spoke into the dark room again. "I'm fertile."

Cadmus stifled a sigh. He wasn't really in the mood. But they had to take advantage of the few times a month Laelia could possibly conceive a child. He buried his worries and turned his concentration to his wife, hoping that at least one thing would go right in his already turbulent life on the Citadel.


	5. Failure

Cadmus woke up to his omni-tool's insistent alarm. He groaned, reached over to tap the tool, then yawned. Turning his head, he saw Laelia's side of the bed, empty. She had already risen. He felt a surge of relief, then guilt as he chastised himself inside. _Be patient with her. She's hurting_. Still, he couldn't deny his satisfaction at capturing a few moments alone this morning. As he peeled himself out of bed and began to dress, he tried to be upbeat, but his mind inevitably reviewed his last couple months on the Citadel.

His first day on the job had been a precursor of all the stressors that awaited him on the station. Little had changed. Decimus continued to disparage him, his detest apparent to the entire team as he often jibed at Cadmus openly. He still referred to Cadmus as "Vakarian," something that wouldn't have bothered Cadmus at all except that his chief called everyone else on the team by their first names. He'd learned that the boss used a first name only when a team member had earned his respect. Thus, Cadmus knew precisely where he stood with his chief: he hadn't been deemed worthy enough for respect yet. Perhaps his continual failure of Decimus' Citadel rules quizzes contributed to this lack of respect. Cadmus had studied the physical book day and night ever since it landed in his lap. He never knew when his chief would choose to question him regarding its contents. His failure wasn't because he knew nothing. Most of the time his answers were sound, but Decimus always found at least one minute detail he'd overlooked and in Decimus' eyes, that amounted to a failure.

Cadmus' other nagging problem at work was Nissa. The asari wouldn't leave him alone. She constantly created reasons to appear in his office. He remained professional and aloof, though she questioned him continually, mischievously trying to make him lose his composure, usually by prying into his private affairs. For the good of the team, Cadmus had ignored the unwanted attention rather than confronting her publicly, but his patience was wearing thin.

Outside of work, Cadmus had run into trouble with his cousin, the last turian he ever thought he'd have a problem with. After Paeon had urged him to talk to Viator, Cadmus had attempted to initiate a confidential conversation numerous times with his cousin. Doing so, however, proved to be difficult. Viator had made himself scarce. When Cadmus did manage to find him, Viator would put him off, making thinly veiled excuses that he didn't have the time to chat. Cadmus had simply been annoyed at first, but Viator's perpetually dismissive actions had eventually driven him into an angry frame of mind. In fact, today he'd awoken early with an obstinate plan: find Viator, pin him down and force him to talk once and for all.

Cadmus finished pulling on his armor and snatched up his omni-tool, strapping it to his wrist. He switched it into work mode and it beeped. He'd received a new file. He flashed the tool on, glancing at what had come in. Ah. A file from Palaven. He'd requested this a week ago hoping against hope he'd receive it. For a moment, he smiled, his worries temporarily forgotten. Perhaps this file would change his luck. Even though Decimus had ordered him to drop Furin Par, Cadmus hadn't. He knew it was wrong to dismiss a direct order from a superior. He'd never done so before. Often he felt like the lowest common denominator where turians were concerned as he contemplated all that was wrong with going behind your boss' back. The trouble was, after Decimus had told him to drop the matter, he'd received a message the next day responding to an inquiry regarding the volus. He'd fully intended to obey his chief, but the response to his inquiry only bolstered his conviction that Furin Par was involved in something deep. He'd found that Furin Par had come to the Citadel on the _Evening Star_, a turian ship owned by the Pavo Foundation. This information surprised him. What was Furin Par, a merchant broker, doing on a ship owned by a turian foundation whose primary function was to promote turian educational opportunities across the galaxy? An insatiable desire to figure out what really was going on had cemented Cadmus' decision to keep on the case. He'd make sure he had evidence so incontrovertible Decimus couldn't blow it off. One day soon, his boss would be compelled to admit that Cadmus had been right.

As Cadmus walked through the apartment and into the kitchen, his confidence faltered. The one problem he'd pushed from his mind was the one problem he could do nothing about. He couldn't ignore it like Nissa or talk to it like Viator or try to convince it like Decimus. Laelia sat at the table, eating slowly, deliberately, sadly. Two more months had passed and still no baby. Laelia grew increasingly despondent and Cadmus felt responsible for her condition. He had begun to doubt his own ability to provide an heir to their family. The situation ate at him daily, the pinnacle of his troubles on the Citadel. He'd stopped wanting to hear Laelia drown her sorrows—they reminded him that he wasn't the turian he should be. Even his father and mother had started sending him messages, suggesting various folk remedies to their situation. He never responded. This issue wasn't their business.

Cadmus sat and ate what Laelia had prepared. He said nothing. He'd run out of words. Nothing comforted her anymore. When he was almost finished, Laelia broke the silence.

"Work is early this morning." Sorrow rang heavy in her tone.

"I've got two hours before I need to be there. I'm going to track Viator down."

"What happened between you two?"

Cadmus locked eyes with Laelia. She hadn't pried much concerning Viator's conspicuous absence, only wondering a couple times why he didn't visit. He could tell she was troubled. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"You always say that."

Cadmus bit back a bitter reply. She often insinuated that she didn't approve of his lack of forthrightness. "There's no reason to worry you needlessly."

"He's my cousin, too, now. I want to know what's wrong."

Cadmus stared into her eyes. Why didn't he want to tell her? What was the harm in telling her? "A couple of my teammates seem to think being related to Viator is a disadvantage to me. They said nothing more, but suggested I ask him. He's been avoiding me."

"So it's his fault and not yours," Laelia stated, recognizing Cadmus' lack of culpability.

Cadmus inclined his head.

"Since you're being so open with me, why not tell me why you always hide work from me." Now her soft voice contained a hint of bitterness.

Cadmus contemplated his response. To his way of thinking, Laelia should never be dragged into his work troubles. He didn't want to reveal to her that his chief hated him and one of his teammates was trying to seduce him. The first would cause her to doubt his ability to provide and the second would offend her heart. She didn't need to know any of it. "Work is my purview. Do not concern yourself with it." He realized he'd spoken too authoritatively when she bristled, stood up and turned to a kitchen counter, cleaning up and avoiding looking at him.

Cadmus stood. He needed to find Viator and he didn't want to stay in the apartment any longer. As he made to leave, Laelia spoke again, turning back to him. "We need to see a specialist. There are several on the station."

Cadmus clenched his jaw. He'd dreaded this day, this suggestion that they seek a doctor to tell them if there was a reason they couldn't conceive. "No."

"Cadmus, there's something wrong with us. A specialist can help us…"

"I said no!" Cadmus shot back, angry that Laelia pressed the matter when he'd already made a decision. There was no way he was going to make it known he'd failed even in his most intimate life.

"Why? If we can get help, maybe…"

"I'm not going to share my shame with the entire station!" Cadmus shouted. Laelia's mandibles fluttered in agitation and tears welled up in her eyes. She bolted from the kitchen, passing him quickly and heading to their bedroom. Cadmus swallowed hard. _Good job, Cadmus. Just hurt her more._ He'd always tried to make her feel things would end up okay. Now he'd confirmed her suspicions: she was shaming him. He pursed his lips together. He should go to her, apologize, but he didn't feel like it. He stomped to the front door, then marched out of it down the hall, frustrated, angry and hell-bent on finding Viator. He'd get the truth out of his cousin even if he had to beat it out of him.

* * *

The moment the door slid open, Viator's face fell. "Uh…Cadmus. I'd invite you in, but I had a friend over last night and…"

Cadmus strode resolutely into Viator's apartment, stopped in the middle of his living room and turned to his cousin with a hard glare. "We're talking _now_."

Viator rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He was still clad in maroon pajamas. "Let me get dressed."

"No. Sit _down_. I said now and I mean _now_."

Viator slowly plodded over to the couch and sat down, continuing to rub the back of his neck. "How much did they tell you?" he asked sheepishly.

Cadmus settled into a chair across from the couch. "Nothing. Just that my being related to you is a bad thing. What did you do, Viator? Why do C-Sec officers hold you in contempt?"

Viator sighed. "It's only one officer." He eyed Cadmus. Cadmus sent him a questioning look. "It's only Decimus."

Cadmus let the information sink in. Decimus hated Viator, too? Great. "Why?"

Viator took a breath and pushed back into the couch. "I know what you're going to think. How you're going to take this." He fixed Cadmus with an imploring stare.

"I'll hear you out," Cadmus asserted, but Viator shook his head.

"I know you too well, cousin." Viator didn't speak disparagingly, but with the conviction of someone who had known Cadmus his entire life.

"Out with it," Cadmus demanded, now even more concerned about the story that was waiting to be told.

"I'm going to warn you first. You'll think I was flighty, impulsive. I wasn't. At least, I wasn't in my head at the time, I swear it."

"_What_ happened? Stop stalling."

"I'm _not_ stalling," Viator snapped back. He hung his head and his voice came out quietly. "I just don't want to lose your respect. I've always looked up to you, Cadmus, wanted to impress you."

Cadmus felt surprise rise within him. He'd never known Viator admired him in any way. They'd been simply cousins and boyhood friends. Viator looked up to him? He understood a little more now why his cousin had been avoiding him and a trace of sympathy calmed the frustration he'd built over Viator. "So just tell me. If you respect me, then trust me and tell me. You owe me the truth."

Viator took another breath and blew it out, pushing back further into the couch as if trying to hide in it. "Alright…You know when I first came to the Citadel, they put me in the Presidium?"

Cadmus nodded, remembering that enforcement officers were almost always assigned to the Presidium first.

"Well, I had been walking that beat for about three months when one evening there was this incident. A quarian on Pilgrimage got into a scuffle with a krogan. I guess it was more than a scuffle. The krogan about beat the poor thing senseless. Anyway, my partner and I intervened, pretty much saved her life. I took her to the hospital." Viator looked up, his eyes reflecting genuine compassion. "You should have seen her. The krogan broke her mask, her face was completely bloodied, bruises everywhere. When I carried her to the hospital, she just clung to me and cried. She was shaking so much."

Cadmus nodded, understanding Viator's intense emotion as he relived the moment. Viator had always been too sensitive for his own good. He should have approached the event professionally. But Cadmus did sympathize. With some cases, you couldn't help feeling for the victim.

"Anyway," Viator went on, breaking his gaze with Cadmus and looking down at his hands, twisting them together as he recalled the situation, "She was terrified. I needed to take her statement, but she could hardly say a word. When I set her down on an examination table, I had to pry her fingers off of my arm so a doctor could attend to her. She begged me to stay, not to leave her, so I didn't. I felt like I was her only lifeline. The doctor examined her, fixed her up, got her a new mask, but he pulled me aside and admitted she was bad off. Not only was it her wounds, but her mask being broken like that. Who knew what germs she'd been exposed to? He didn't think she was in any state to think about the assault. I called in, they said I could get to it in the morning, they had the krogan in custody and he'd run his mouth off, so he'd already been formally arrested. I was going to leave then, but she asked me in that tiny, petrified voice not to leave. So I didn't." Viator looked back over at Cadmus, assessing how he was taking the story so far.

"I'm assuming she wasn't Decimus' girlfriend," Cadmus said in all seriousness.

Viator actually chuckled. "No, she wasn't. She didn't even know him." His tone changed when he noted Cadmus hadn't laughed along with him. "Decimus comes into the story later," he assured.

"Go on, then," Cadmus pushed, sitting stock still, anticipating the moment when his chief showed up.

"I stayed with her all night. I watched her sleep. She was beautiful. I'd never seen a quarian up close before. I mean, I knew what she looked like in real life, without the mask, and even through the blood and the bruises, I could tell how gorgeous she was. As I watched over her, I kept seeing that face behind the mask."

Cadmus divined the truth. "You fell in love with her."

Viator swallowed. "Yeah."

"You didn't…that night…you didn't…"

"No, no, of course I didn't. I'd never take advantage of her like that."

Cadmus recognized the meaning behind the present sense of "I'd." "You still keep up with her."

Viator nodded. "We correspond. See each other here and there."

"So…what? You're on the Presidium playing hero to some quarian and Decimus is in Bachjret working cases. Was she involved in one of his cases? Or the krogan maybe?"

Viator shook his head, twisting his hands together again. "Decimus wasn't in Bachjret then. He was the lead investigator in Zakera."

Zakera Ward. Cadmus knew that portions of the ward had an unfavorable reputation. It was packed with different races and known for its difficult cases. C-Sec placed its best there and Decimus had been the head detective. Then why was he in Bachjret now? Certainly placing him there had been a demotion?

"Decimus was working a case; I'm not sure what he was investigating. That day he was tracking someone. Don't ask me who. He's never told me. He doesn't want to tell me. Point is, the next morning after my friend was assaulted, Decimus was up on the Presidium. I had just left the hospital, but…well I wanted to give her assurance she'd be okay. See, she'd been paranoid that the krogan would send someone after her. So, I gave her my gun, told her she could use it if she had to, but I'd be back soon and she wouldn't have to."

"You gave a civilian your gun?" Cadmus asked incredulously.

"I knew you'd be upset about that," Viator grumbled.

"Of course I am," Cadmus returned, his voice harsh. "I'm surprised you didn't get thrown out of C-Sec."

"I might have," Viator mumbled, "But she didn't tell anyone after…" Viator paused, then looked up in fear at Cadmus. "Are _you_ going to turn me in?"

Cadmus contemplated his cousin's eyes begging him to stay loyal to family. This had happened, what, six years ago? There was no point in pulling skeletons out of Viator's closet now. Cadmus slowly shook his head.

Viator silently thanked Cadmus with his eyes and continued his story. "When I left the hospital, I intended to shower, put on fresh armor, come back and get her statement, then return to base with it. But on my way, an emergency transmission went out from Decimus. Whoever he'd been tracking had him pinned down and was shooting at him. I was closest to his location. I ran in his direction and found myself standing there, just behind the turian shooting at him. I reached for my gun, but of course, it wasn't there. I didn't know what to do." Viator's eyes had widened and he continued on, speaking as if the event was taking place in the present. "So I just leap at the turian and take him by surprise, but he regains his composure quickly and throws me off. He grins, goes to shoot me and the next thing I know there's a bullet in his chest. Decimus had come running out of his cover to save me. The turian goes down, lays still, I think it's over. Decimus leans over to help me get up and there's these three quick shots, a sickening crunch and Decimus goes down to the floor." Viator gulped and looked to Cadmus. "The turian wasn't dead yet, but fading. He shot Decimus once in the head, two times in his right leg. I still remember hearing that turian laugh as he died, thinking he'd won some victory over his adversary."

As Viator paused, Cadmus thought. So that was why Decimus limped. It was this incident that caused his injury. Knowing Decimus' vindictive spirit, it was no wonder he hated Viator.

"He hates you because of his injury," Cadmus stated.

"Partly," Viator admitted, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and rubbing his eyes. "He barely survived the surgery. No one knew if he'd even be able to function again. But he was resilient. He survived, though it was a long recovery and he'd never get the full use of his leg again. You see, they had to give Zakera Ward to someone else. They wanted someone in perfect form. Decimus would never be that again. He'd be weighed down by physical therapy sessions. So they moved him to Bachjret and he's been there ever since."

So it wasn't just the leg. "Decimus blames you for his transfer."

Viator nodded. "I made a report. Confessed I didn't have my gun. Any C-Sec enforcement officer on duty is supposed to have his gun on him. They forgave me only because I was new and they appreciated my boldness, the way I'd tackled the attacker without any thought to myself, trying to save a fellow officer. But they tied me down in the Presidium for a while and I don't think they'll ever let me out of Bachjret." Viator stood up. "Speaking of that, I've got duty soon. I'm going to get dressed." He avoided looking in Cadmus' direction as he left the room.

Cadmus sat motionless, the wheels in his mind turning. Viator was right. He did feel his cousin had been impulsive. Females were Viator's weakness. So he'd seen a pretty quarian. So what? That didn't necessitate handing over his gun. Cadmus tried to put a finger on his emotions. He wasn't angry at Viator. More than anything, he was entirely disappointed. His thoughts next turned to Decimus. Did his chief know he was related to Viator? And if he did, was that one of the reasons he hated him? Did he think Cadmus and Viator were cut out of the same cloth?

Viator sauntered back into the living room, now dressed in his armor, gun and all. "I've got to go," he muttered.

Cadmus stood and walked to the door. He paused, looking hard at his cousin. "I hope she was worth it, your quarian friend."

Viator's lips snapped together and his mandibles tightened, a gesture which communicated discontent. He knew he'd lost Cadmus' respect. "You don't want to know the answer to that," he mumbled, pushing past his cousin and tromping quickly down the hall towards work.

* * *

The minute Cadmus stepped foot in the precinct, he saw Decimus standing in the lobby, finishing a discussion with the receptionist. As Cadmus passed, his chief called out, "Wait, Vakarian. Follow me." Cadmus did as he was commanded, walking dutifully behind Decimus, his gut twisted in knots now that Viator had come clean. He wished he could view himself through his chief's eyes. Maybe then he could conquer whatever prejudices Decimus had about him. There was one thing he knew for sure: He wasn't Viator and he wasn't going to make the same mistake.

When they entered his office, Decimus limped heavily to his chair and situated his large bulk into the seat. His yellow eyes bore into Cadmus who had positioned himself in front of his superior's desk, standing at attention.

"List the drugs allowed on this station. The types from each race."

Cadmus tried not to let the annoyance show on his face. He was in no mood for a quiz over the Citadel rulebook. He took a moment to compose himself. At least he knew the answer to this question. He'd easily committed the rules involving drugs to memory, motivated by his wager with Viator. Considering that Viator had most likely fueled Decimus' hate for him, Cadmus was even more eager to humble his cousin by winning the bet.

"Turian—Praxta D, Yeltin, Hethem…" Cadmus began, listing every race and their legal drug types. When he finished, he reveled in Decimus' amazed stare.

"You're the first to get that list correct the first time," he stated.

Cadmus kept the smirk from his lips, but his thoughts were insubordinate. _Stick that down your cowl, Chief._

"What drugs, then, are not allowed on station?"

This one was easier than the drugs allowed. Cadmus quickly rattled off the list, ending with the infamous Minagen X3.

"Good." Decimus narrowed his eyes. "And _why_ aren't they allowed?"

Cadmus tilted his head at the unexpected question. "That wasn't in the rules, sir."

"I don't care. A good detective will know the answer."

Cadmus bristled at the implication that he wasn't a good detective.

"Tell me about Minagen X3."

"It enhances biotic abilities. Its power is addictive. Users are tempted to use it in large quantities and this usually leads to death."

Decimus nodded his head. "We can't let it get out of control here. Now, tell me about the others."

Cadmus began to list the other illegal drugs, making logical guesses as to why they hadn't been allowed on station. When he got to Kinaka he noted that its properties decreased a heart rate significantly and could lead to death.

"Rarely," Decimus interrupted then. "It's used more to fake deaths. It's a common trick." Decimus leaned back in his chair. "You should read up on your drugs, Vakarian. Dismissed."

Cadmus turned and left the room. He grumbled as he made his way to his office. He'd done well, Decimus _had_ to admit it. _Read up on my drugs. What does he think I've been doing the last month with his ridiculous tome?_

Cadmus sat down behind his desk, trying to cool his rich anger. What with Viator's confession and Decimus' quiz, his nerves had been frayed too early in the morning. To top it all off, he'd just remembered how he'd shouted at Laelia that morning and forgone apologizing. Maybe he should call her…No, not now, not when anger raged in his heart. He turned instead to the file he'd received from Palaven. Somehow, an old cop friend had managed to get a hold of the Pavo Foundation's financial reports. He suspected the foundation had been privy to Furin Par's actions, even financed them. He'd obtained video of Furin Par on Palaven entering and leaving the foundation's main building several times. Still, he knew that wasn't proof. According to Citadel rules, he needed hard evidence before he could make any claim.

Cadmus spent the rest of the day pursuing the Pavo Foundation's financial records in between breaks to look over current Bachjret cases. Paeon came in once to let him know a successful arrest had been made based on Cadmus' efforts in particular. Cadmus would have been pleased with the news if he hadn't been frustrated with the financial files. He hadn't been able to find anything linking Furin Par financially with the foundation. He knew in his gut there was a connection. There had to be.

Paeon picked up on Cadmus' sour mood. "Thought you'd be glad to know we finally brought Bauli in."

Cadmus looked up momentarily, muttering a quick, "I am," then focused back on the financial files. Bauli had been a petty criminal, hardly worth the time. He was no feather in Cadmus' cap.

"Well," Paeon encouraged, "You'll be the guest of honor when we go out tonight, so there's at least that."

Cadmus grunted and Paeon left quietly, not wanting to disturb his teammate's concentration.

* * *

At the end of the day, Cadmus found himself leaving his office in a foul mood. His investigation into the Pavo Foundation had come to naught. He didn't care that an insignificant Bachjret case had been brought to a successful conclusion. He had no desire to go out to the club tonight, but he also didn't want to go home. Going home meant he'd have to humble himself before Laelia. She'd understand, she'd forgive him, but he didn't want to be in that position, not now. _I've done nothing but fail since I came here_, Cadmus grouched to himself in the midst of his gregarious companions. His teammates were all in a good mood. That made his own worse. It irritated him that they could be happy when his entire life felt like a shambles. He couldn't make Laelia pregnant, he couldn't tie Furin Par to the Pavo Foundation, he couldn't pass one of Decimus' quizzes to his chief's satisfaction, he couldn't change the fact that he was related to Viator. The deck was stacked so high against him he doubted he'd ever be able to climb over it.

"Alright, grumpy, give up the pouting," Nissa whined once the team had settled in at a table in The Flaming Core.

Cadmus glared at her. Right now, her voice grated on his nerves and her teasing increased his already ill temper.

"Nissa, leave him alone," Selyna spoke, swigging a drink.

Nissa smiled coyly at her sister.

"I agree with Selyna. Having observed past interactions, your chance of seducing Cadmus are 0%." Cadmus had to chuckle inside at Kepel's matter-of-fact statistic.

"I'm not trying to seduce anyone," Nissa defended herself, her vehemence belying the truth of the matter. "I just think someone who led to Bauli's arrest has a reason to celebrate instead of sitting there in a gloomy funk."

"Relax, Cadmus," Paeon pleaded kindly. "Just drink and enjoy it."

Cadmus sighed and lifted his glass to his lips. Maybe for a moment he could just let it all go, forget the troubles of his life. He downed the glass in one pass.

Nissa whistled. "Never seen you do that before."

Cadmus didn't answer, but watched as Nissa put back her head and downed her own drink. She reached out and poured both herself and Cadmus another drink from a decanter. "Bet I can drink you under the table," she spoke impishly, winking at him.

Cadmus knew he shouldn't rise to her challenge. She was just trying to play with him again, ruin his defenses. But he'd had it with Nissa's insinuations. And he knew he could hold his liquor better than her any day. "You're on," he spat back.

"Cadmus, I think maybe…" Paeon began hesitantly, but Cadmus rounded on him.

"You think I can't win against her?"

"You've never seen how much she can put down if she wants to."

"She can hold a lot," Selyna warned, her voice cautious and yet full of good-humor.

"So can I," Cadmus growled out. He reached out for the glass and threw it back again. Nissa laughed gleefully and did the same. And so the game began. None of the teammates uttered another word against it. Rather, it brought energy to a boring night in the club as they took to wagering who would win. After a time, other patrons in the club came over as the news of the drinking game gradually made its way around the room.

Cadmus didn't know how many glasses he'd guzzled. He'd begun to feel a tight buzz in the back of his head and his eyesight was slightly foggy. At that point, he told himself maybe it was time to stop, but he blew that thought off when he considered the crowd around their table. He wouldn't be defeated in front of them. Moreover, Nissa was so close to being done. He could see her head lolling, her eyes barely open. Selyna had been trying to convince her to give in for the last ten minutes. She'd go down anytime, Cadmus thought.

As he reached out for the next drink, he smiled. He'd win at least one thing on this station. As he lifted the glass, his eyes scanned the crowd, appreciating the looks of admiration being sent his way. His smile faded, however, when he caught sight of a familiar face—Laelia stood right up against the table. Her countenance cut him to the quick, her eyes telling all. She was disappointed, hurt, angry. In his haze, he realized with unreal clarity what this must look like to her. He'd left her that morning with the implication that her inability to conceive was a blight on his ego. He hadn't called her all day. And when she'd left their apartment to find him, she'd discovered him playing a drinking game with an attractive asari. What could she think but that she meant nothing to him anymore?

After their eyes locked, Laelia turned, rushing to exit the club. Cadmus stood, not caring a whit now about the game. He didn't care if he lost. What was a game compared to his wife, the one he treasured above all else? The crowd parted, muttering, wondering where he was going. Cadmus walked a few feet, then faltered to one knee. The room was spinning. He felt a hand jerking on his arm. Looking over, he saw Nissa sitting on the floor next to him.

"You aren't goin' away…You gotta stay," she slurred out.

Cadmus felt rage boil within him. He'd thought he'd win respect with this game, but he'd lost the respect of the only one who truly mattered to him. Adrenaline surged and he abruptly stood to his feet, then yanked Nissa up from the floor, pushing her back and slamming her into the bar. The asari cried out in pain.

"Never come near me again!" Cadmus roared out, shaking the barely standing asari.

"Cadmus!" he heard a voice reprimand in his ear and then he was pulled away. Nissa would have fallen over, but Selyna was there, picking her up and throwing daggers with her eyes at Cadmus.

"I'm getting you out of here," the voice that had admonished him insisted. He looked over to see Paeon. The turian had his arm in an iron grip, keeping him steady and directing him out of the club.


	6. Reconciliation

Cadmus groaned as Paeon tapped the entry code into his apartment with a talon. The turian's grip on his arm was painful. He'd tried multiple times to protest this abduction, but Paeon hadn't appeared to hear him at all, silently strong-arming him along to his apartment. When the door swooshed open, he pulled Cadmus over to a couch, then forcefully pushed him down into it, compelling him to sit.

Cadmus made to stand again. "I need to find Laelia."

Paeon stood over him and shoved his shoulders back down, keeping him on the couch. "You don't want to find her when you're like this."

"I'm fine…" Cadmus breathed out. He detected the labor in his speech pattern, but continued his thought anyway. "I have to explain to her."

Paeon folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head. "I don't care how well you can talk or think. You look wasted."

Cadmus blinked a couple times. He could continue to argue with Paeon or give in. If he did look as bad as Paeon said, maybe it _would_ be better to wait a little bit before heading home. He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. Laelia's face loomed in his mind's eye, tormenting him. He'd clearly hurt her deeply. He berated himself inside. _It's your duty to protect her. You failed her._ A rush of all the failure he'd experienced on the Citadel since his arrival tumbled through his mind. His thoughts became jumbled and elusive and strangely, dark and comfortable…

Cadmus groaned at the band of pain encircling his head. He cracked open his left eye and rolled it around the room. Where was he? He remembered when he sighted Paeon sitting across from him, staring at him, a data pad dangling from his right hand. Paeon's star like green tattoo appeared strikingly bright against his gray face. Cadmus closed his eye again, then opened both slowly. The tattoo was normal now. _I must be worse off than I thought_.

Paeon pointed to a cup on a coffee table next to the couch. "I made you some dyox."

Cadmus slowly pushed himself to a sitting position, his hand on his head. He clenched his jaw against the throbbing jolts assaulting his skull. "Thanks," he muttered. He leaned over and picked up the turian drink, sipping slowly. After a time, the throbbing subsided and Cadmus felt more like himself. He cast a glance at Paeon, curious how the turian now viewed him. His teammate's face was inscrutable.

"How long have I been here?" Cadmus finally ventured to ask.

Paeon, who had turned his attention to the data pad, set it down on the coffee table. "Five hours."

Five hours? That meant the station was now well into "nighttime." "I need to get home."

"I sent your wife a message. Told her I had taken charge of you."

Cadmus' mandibles moved in and out quickly, expressing his worry. "And…"

"I know she got the message, but she didn't reply."

_She also didn't come._ "Why didn't you take me home?" Cadmus demanded.

Paeon blew a breath out his nose and linked his fingers together under his chin. "I have a wife. I've been in your position before. Trust me, the time to plead for forgiveness is not when you're dead drunk."

"I wasn't drunk," Cadmus avouched.

"Oh you hold it well. I give you credit for that. I would have been passed out on the floor long before you. But you were still drunk."

Cadmus took a long swig of the dyox, wanting the chemicals in the drink to push him to sobriety as fast as possible. It was then that he recalled how he'd slammed Nissa into the bar.

"Nissa…is she…"

"She's physically fine," Paeon replied, picking up his data pad, tapping it with his talon, then passing it over to Cadmus. Cadmus scanned the screen, reading a message Selyna had sent Paeon. It was laced with expletives, an angry rant about how Cadmus had shamefully treated a fellow teammate, how Paeon shouldn't have sequestered Cadmus in his apartment and how she'd already seen Decimus.

Cadmus dropped the data pad on the coffee table and moaned. "She told the chief."

"She likes to tattle," Paeon ground out. "When it involves her sister anyway. Selyna plays Nissa's mother most of the time. She's always pulling her out of messes and defending her when they go bad."

"What will Decimus do?" Cadmus pondered aloud.

Paeon's mandibles clacked against his jaw, the turian approximation of a shrug. "You'll find out. You've certainly given him the opportunity to squash another Palaven born and raised turian."

Cadmus grunted, sipping the dyox again. "What _is_ his problem with Palaven?" he blurted out loud. He instantly regretted his question, remembering how Paeon had defended their chief when they'd first discussed him. But Cadmus couldn't help the question, so worried was he about what his actions might mean for his future career on the Citadel.

Paeon put a hand to his chin, apparently considering how to answer Cadmus' question. After a few moments, he lowered his hand. "It would help if you would give Decimus a chance. Try to see things from his point-of-view."

"Me?" Cadmus stormed out. "You think _I_ haven't given _him_ a chance?"

"Don't misunderstand me. He's been hard on you. He's been hard on all of us, especially at the beginning. But he's only trying to make us better cops."

Cadmus snorted, expressing his derision and his disbelief in Paeon's statement.

Paeon let out a slow breath. "Do you remember basic training?"

Cadmus reluctantly nodded, already suspecting where Paeon was going with this.

"Our instructors, they weren't kind to us. That wasn't their job. Their job was to make us true turians and they _did_ make us true turians. We've made our race proud and we owe it to our teachers, especially the ones that were the hardest on us of all."

Cadmus felt the uncomfortable sense of chagrin rising within him.

"Decimus is just like them."

"He's not just like them," Cadmus disputed, only partly believing his attempt at disagreement. "We were young then, in need of training. We've pulled through now. I'm less than two years from 30. We deserve respect."

"Ah…" Paeon intoned, smiling shrewdly, "You know what it's like to be a true turian in turian space. But here, on the Citadel, among all the other races? Decimus is training us to be the best _here_."

Cadmus looked skeptically at Paeon.

"You most of all," Paeon continued. "You're the newest with the least experience. Of course Decimus spends his time and energy on you, eager to make you better than when you came."

Cadmus gazed at Paeon. The turian was definitely the sympathetic type, someone who gave everyone slack because he imagined himself walking in their shoes. Cadmus wondered how such a kind turian could become a cop. Perhaps his sympathy was what drove him to seek out justice for victims of crime. And Cadmus had to admit there was a certain amount of wisdom in being able to perceive life from another's point-of-view.

"All that aside," Cadmus spoke hurriedly, "It still smacks of treason for him to hate Palaven so much."

"He has his reasons," Paeon asserted.

"You said that my first day on the job," Cadmus remarked. Paeon inclined his head in affirmation. "What do you mean by it?"

Paeon reached across the coffee table and reacquired his data pad. He tapped it for a little bit, then handed it to Cadmus again. Cadmus took it, glancing down. A piece of turian art met his eyes. He recognized the infamous statue although he hadn't seen it in person and only in textbooks when he was quite young. The statue displayed a particularly virile turian in struggle with a krogan. The turian's hands were squeezing the life out of the krogan's jugular, the krogan on his way to collapsing to the ground. Cadmus looked back up at Paeon. "If I remember my primary lessons well, this is Admiral…Mehrkuri."

Paeon nodded again and his eyes twinkled. The name rang a bell in Cadmus' mind. Decimus…Decimus' surname was Mehrkuri.

"Decimus is related to Mehrkuri," Cadmus stated.

"Yes."

"I didn't know Mehrkuri had descendents. I thought he'd disappeared."

"He did. He left behind a wife and thirteen children."

"So Decimus is…"

"A great-great-great, who knows how many, grandson of Mehrkuri. Direct descendent."

Cadmus set the data pad back on the table. "So, he's related to some missing Admiral."

"Not missing anymore. Don't you remember the Admiral's ship was found on Pressha's largest moon, oh, two hundred years ago or so?"

"I'd forgotten that," Camdus admitted. Admiral Mehrkuri had only been important to him as a historical figure, a distinguished naval officer during the Krogan Rebellions.

"Of course, the Admiral himself wasn't found, just his ship. No one knows what happened to him."

"Don't tell me Decimus is upset that his grandfather to the umpteenth power hasn't been found and blames Palaven in some way?"

Paeon chuckled. "Now _that_ would be crazy. No, it's not the Admiral that directly concerns him. It's what happened after he disappeared."

Paeon paused and Cadmus gestured with a wave of his hand. "Well…enlighten me. I don't remember my history books too well."

"Most of it isn't in the history books anyway," Paeon confided. "I found out on my own, digging into files from the past."

Cadmus felt a grin coming on. "You spied on our chief's background."

"I wanted to find out why he had such a burr in his cowl. I think I found at least part of the answer." Paeon glanced conspiratorially at Cadmus. "I assume you won't share this with our chief?"

"You have to ask me that?" Cadmus came back, his tone implying how ludicrous it was to suggest he might tattle to Decimus.

"I had to make sure," Paeon noted, but he smiled as well. Paeon picked up the data pad, running his talon over the screen. "It's all here. The records of how Mehrkuri's wife and children were treated after he left. The Admiral may have been a war hero, but his wife was not. She'd born him children and kept his house, nothing more. Yet after he disappeared, she demanded spoils of war equivalent to his actions during the Rebellions. Political corruption was rampant then. It's often so after the devastation of war, isn't it? Political factions conspired against Mehrkuri's heirs, unwilling to divide parts of Palaven into thirteen colonies for his children. Instead, they handed an entire planet over to the Admiral's wife: Tridend."

Tridend. It was still a turian colony, though he knew little about it. He'd met only one or two turians raised there and knew neither well. "A mining colony, isn't it?"

"Now," Paeon assented. "Not then. Tridend had been devastated during the Rebellions. I've often wondered why the Admiral's wife accepted the bargain. She must have known it wasn't a good deal. Perhaps she was forced to accept it. Whatever the reason, she and her children ended up on the planet, accompanied by a few hundred turians loyal to the Admiral." Paeon skimmed through the data pad again, then stopped. "I found some journals written by one of her great-grandsons who recounted an oral history of the hardships the Mehrkuri clan had in taming Tridend. The result was a branch of turians grown hardy, strong and tough as the skin on a codilus' back."

Cadmus had listened with rapt attention, hoping to glean some insight into Decimus' feelings towards his race's home planet. "Did they also foment hate for Palaven?"

"That's my belief," Paeon stated, lowering the data pad and looking across at Cadmus. "Their ancestor played a vital role in preserving the turians during the Krogan Rebellions and they cast his family off like unwanted rubbish. Is it any wonder Decimus views turians from Palaven as he does? Turians from Tridend follow turian rules to a fault. They are even more strict, more controlling over their young. If you're going to survive in such a harsh environment, such stringent adherence to order is essential. I assume you don't know that as part of their training, Tridend turians are required to work four years in their planet's mines?"

Cadmus shook his head, afraid to ask what that entailed.

"It's back-breaking labor," Paeon went on. "But they take pride in the fact that they rely on no other race to do it for them. They mine their own planet. They even forgo traditional safety practices. They say only genuine turians leave the mines and emerge on the topsoil like priceless gems born out of the earth."

Cadmus wondered why he hadn't heard any of this. Tridend, it seemed, had indeed been utterly forgotten. Who cared about a small out of the way mining colony on the edge of turian space? He hated to admit it, but he could see why Decimus despised Palaven, regarded its turians as weak. What were a few years of basic training compared to the tedious labor of dark, dangerous mines?

Cadmus took a breath and another sip of dyox. He felt humble of spirit. No, he still hadn't excused Decimus for the way he'd been treated. Tridend turian or not, Decimus had treated him unfairly. But at least Cadmus now understood that the treatment wasn't personal. Decimus had a beef with Palaven and he was taking it out on Cadmus for the moment. This new information bolstered Cadmus' determination to come out on top. He'd show Decimus that Palaven turians were as good as those from Tridend any day.

"Decimus' hate isn't personal," Cadmus spoke, wanting to affirm his newfound knowledge.

Paeon nodded. "He's grown up with certain ideas and they've stuck with him."

A sudden thought came to Cadmus. "But…concerning me, does he know I'm related to Viator?"

Paeon's face took on a knowing look. "You talked to your cousin then?"

"He told me what happened."

"I don't know if he knows," Paeon answered. "But I doubt it. They don't put family relations in your files. You're supposed to get the job on your own merits, not because your family has some source of wealth or power."

_I have both_, Cadmus thought, but he wasn't going to admit this out loud to Paeon.

"Just…try to make sure he _doesn't_ find out."

"I agree," Cadmus muttered. It would be best if he wasn't seen with Viator for a while. That wouldn't be difficult. Viator's confession had put a strain on their relationship. He doubted Viator had any desire to be near his cousin for the time being.

Cadmus set down the cup of dyox and looked back at Paeon. He was a good turian, a true turian. Cadmus felt now he was more than a teammate, he was a friend. "Thanks."

"No problem," Paeon said, indicating with a wave of his hand that helping Cadmus out hadn't been a burden.

Cadmus stood, feeling the solid ground under his feet. He could make it out of the apartment without falling down. He _had_ to find Laelia. He had to make it right with her. But there was something else that needed his attention first. He walked to the door.

"Watch out for Selyna," Paeon warned as the door opened.

Cadmus' mandibles twitched and his eyes scanned the corridor as he stepped outside, keeping an eye out for any furious asari that might be seeking revenge.

* * *

Cadmus paused to steel himself before entering his apartment. What would he say? He'd tried to conjure up words of apology, but everything he considered sounded weak. Would a simple "I'm sorry" cover it? He wasn't sure. He held his omni-tool to the door. When it opened, he stepped in gingerly, peering around the living room. No sign of Laelia. He made his way to the bedroom. Perhaps she was already sleeping. There was no form in the bed. He next sought her out in the kitchen, concern growing within him. The kitchen was empty. His wife wasn't in the apartment.

Cadmus stood helplessly in the living room at a loss. Where could she be? Where would she go? The station was vast. She could be anywhere. It might take him days just to track her down. Contrition plied him as he contemplated that he was the reason for her disappearance. How could he have been so stupid?

He left the apartment. He didn't have the patience to wait for her to return—_if_ she ever decided to. He scrutinized the grounds outside the apartment complex as he headed back towards the elevators. He hated that he knew so little of his wife he couldn't even begin to figure out where she would flee for solace. He'd just decided to return to Paeon and seek help in searching for her when he spotted a familiar figure perched on a bench on the balcony overlooking the Presidium. He stopped in his tracks. It was definitely Laelia. He'd know her slender form anywhere. She sat tall, back straight, eyes staring at nothing.

Cadmus swallowed slowly. He trod over to the bench, guarded, not knowing what to expect when she saw him. To make matters worse, she was gorgeous in the "starlight." The Presidium had darkened, now in its six hour artificial night phase. The simulated sky was dotted with "stars" of various strengths. The lack of clouds made it possible for gentle light to pour down on his wife, framing her in a soft glow enhanced by the shimmery lavender dress she wore. For a moment, Cadmus recalled the turian myth of Siphy and Maira who were said to have given up their immortality to dwell in mortal form. In the stories, Maira glowed with the light of reason even then. Siphy, on the other hand, brought his violent ways with him, a sinister, foreboding presence to any who sought his counsel. Siphy's dark passions centered on an insatiable craving for Maira. Unconscionably, he had savagely imprisoned her for thousands of years to break her will. Laelia now reminded Cadmus of Maira, her ethereal beauty running up against his bleak failure. But unlike Siphy, he had no plan to cage her. He sought only her forgiveness. If she could not give it to him, he would understand and pledge to serve her willingly with hopes of earning her mercy.

Cadmus noticed Laelia's eyes flick over to him for the briefest of moments once he came within her view. She then went back to gazing out at the Presidium below. It may have been "night," but patrons still talked and milled around below. Their faraway voices floated up on cool breezes. Cadmus gently sat down next to his wife. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, trying to form appropriate words. His indecision prompted Laelia to speak first.

"Who's your drinking companion?" she asked bitterly.

Cadmus sucked in a breath, forging ahead. "She's not a companion, she's a teammate. Nissa." His tone came out repentant and humble.

"You drink with her often?" Laelia's voice was tentative, as if she feared the answer.

Cadmus' mandibles tightened. He'd made a misguided mistake. "I've left you out of my work. I was wrong."

Laelia now turned her head to him, eyes hard. "Tell me about _Nissa_."

Cadmus' mandibles pulled out from his jaw. "I'll start from the beginning." And so, Cadmus related to Laelia everything that had happened to him at work from his first day onward. He described his teammates, not sparing her any details regarding Nissa's attempts at seduction. He ignored his discomfort while explaining how Decimus had taken an immediate disliking to him and seemed to take some kind of wicked comfort in seeing him fail. He recounted his frustrations with work and why he hadn't wanted to foist them on her as well.

As Laelia listened, Cadmus perceived her anger diminishing. If she was jealous of Nissa, she didn't show it. Her countenance did, however, reflect irritation at the way Decimus treated her husband. When he finished, she muttered a quiet, yet direct question.

"You drink with them after every arrest?"

"Yes. It's their tradition."

"Seems to me this tradition goes against your principles."

Cadmus stiffened. His principles? "I'm getting to know them, nothing more."

Laelia turned defiant eyes his direction. "You pride yourself on being in control, always at the ready. What I saw tonight…it wasn't the turian I love, the turian I've come to depend on."

Cadmus swallowed again, pushing his defenses down. _She's right,_ he admitted to himself. He'd been out of control, goaded along by a manipulative asari. His senses had been dulled. If he'd observed a turian in his same position, he would have pulled him aside and talked some sense into him. When it came down to it, drinking in the club with his teammates couldn't compare with his desire to please his wife. He'd swear off drinking for the rest of his life just to keep her.

"I won't drink again," he swore to Laelia.

Laelia's face softened. "I don't want you to do anything so drastic."

"I will. For you." _It will be my penance_.

There was a moment of silence. Laelia looked down, her hand on her abdomen. Cadmus reached out and took her hand in his. "I made an appointment…" Laelia looked up at him, surprise on her face. "With Dr. Lisan. He's the best specialist on the station."

Laelia's eyes misted over. "Thank you," she whispered.

Cadmus squeezed her hand tightly. "You'll have your children. I'll make sure of it."

* * *

The next morning, Cadmus awoke tired, but content. He'd fallen into a deep sleep the night before right after he and Laelia climbed into bed. She had been sleeping still when Cadmus woke up and he'd risen quietly, determined not to wake her. He ate a quick breakfast then left but not before leaving a note on her data pad letting her know he hadn't wanted to disturb her rest and he'd see her that evening after work regardless of any victory traditions at the precinct.

As he approached the precinct, Cadmus kept keenly aware of his surroundings. When he stepped inside the lobby, he half-expected to catch a glimpse of a raging asari barreling towards him for a fist fight. However, all appeared calm, the daily drudge of a security precinct normal as always. As he passed the receptionist, the salarian called out to him.

"Cadmus Vakarian!"

Cadmus halted and turned. "Yes?"

"Detective Mehrkuri wants to see you in his office immediately."

Cadmus' stomach knotted. It was time to face the music. He hoped he'd have a job by the end of it. He marched down the hall, walking with his head held high. He could take a tongue-lashing, he deserved it, but he'd take it like the true turian he was. He didn't even pause in front of Decimus' door. He rapidly pressed the panel and entered.

He'd expected to see Decimus, his eyes brooding and his mandibles flexing in anger. He did, indeed, see that. What he hadn't expected was to find Nissa and Selyna already in the room standing at attention in front of the chief's desk.

"Vakarian!" Decimus barked out. "Finally here. Get in line."

Cadmus took his place next to Selyna who glanced at him out of the corner of her eye for a brief second. Decimus paced back and forth in front of them, a data pad in his hand. Cadmus felt like he was back in his primary days, in trouble for some offense against his playmates.

"I've seen the whole affair," Decimus growled. He abruptly stopped pacing and snapped the data pad up to Nissa's face so she could view whatever was on it. Nissa said nothing, her demeanor stoic. Decimus brought the pad back down and this time stalked to Cadmus at the other end of the line. "Proud of yourself, Vakarian?" Decimus now raised the data pad so he could see. It was surveillance video from The Flaming Core. Cadmus viewed himself kneeling on the floor, Nissa stumbling to grab him and slipping to the ground, then a couple seconds of conversation and a sudden eruption as he rose and threw the asari into the bar. He winced inside as he realized how violently he'd attacked her. It hadn't felt that dramatic at the time. If he hadn't been drinking so heavily, he never would have lost control like that.

"No, sir," he answered his chief crisply.

Decimus paced back behind his desk, threw the data pad on it and stared down the three teammates in front of him. "I expect my team to respect itself both in _and_ out of the office. C-Sec is the symbol of order on this station. Those people out there," here he pointed towards his door, "Depend on us to keep the peace. What do you think they think when a bunch of C-Sec officers disgrace themselves like this? How can they trust us to do our jobs when we can't control our own inhibitions?"

Cadmus didn't answer; neither did Nissa or Selyna. Decimus didn't seem to want an answer. He just wanted them to submit to his lecture and pay a good ear to it.

"Here's what you're going to do," he went on. "_You_," Decimus had made his way to stand in front of Nissa, "Are going to make it up with Vakarian. It's over. You aren't hurt. I don't want to see any payback, got me?"

Nissa nodded. "Yes, sir." Her voice was oddly meek.

Decimus moved in front of Selyna. "I know you, Selyna. You're a 'mother' with the sharpest talons I've seen. Vakarian is your teammate. You're going to respect him and get over it."

"Sir," Selyna spoke, bowing her head submissively.

"You're dismissed."

Nissa turned to glare at Cadmus. "What about him?"

"I said, '_You're _dismissed,' you and Selyna. Out, now."

Cadmus watched Nissa and Selyna exit through his peripheral vision. Both avoided looking his direction. He felt a lump growing in his throat. Decimus apparently had saved the worst for when he had his newest recruit in the office alone. The door shut, its characteristic whoosh sounding suddenly ominous to Cadmus. Decimus limped heavily back to his desk and sat down in his chair, looking spent. For the first time, Cadmus observed several tiny nicks on his chief's face and lined cracks on his hands. He imagined a younger chief toiling four dreadful years in the bowels of Tridend.

Decimus leaned back in his chair, his eyes boring into Cadmus. Cadmus stared straight ahead, still at attention. "Vakarian…Assaulting my team should carry a hefty penalty."

Regret rained down on Cadmus. How could he have ever gotten to the point of treating a team member like that? "Yes, sir."

"You agree?"

"I was wrong, sir."

"And how do you plan to make it right?"

"Nissa will have my full respect, I promise you, sir."

"Hum…" Decimus intoned. "I say it _should_ carry a hefty penalty. I'm not happy with you, but I also know Nissa. She's hounded you the past two months. I wondered how long you'd resist her. I thought you might make it entirely, you seemed so little fazed by her."

So Decimus had been watching all along, waiting to see how Cadmus would handle the pressure from Nissa. Cadmus rebuked himself inside. He'd failed yet another test.

Decimus sighed. "What do you think of yourself, Vakarian?"

"Sir?"

"What kind of cop do you want to be?"

Camdus hadn't expected this question. He thought as he answered the question. "Strong…efficient…successful."

"And how can you be that if you let a little asari rattle you, hum?"

Cadmus shifted his eyes to look down at his chief behind the desk. The question was asked with as much kindness as he had ever heard in Decimus' voice. It wasn't exactly kindness, more like "not as much meanness."

"I'll never lose it again, sir."

Decimus took a long breath. "You'll file all Nissa's reports for the next month."

"Yes, sir." Filing reports was boring, but he'd retained his job.

"That includes meeting with her to review them."

Cadmus clenched his jaw. Of course it meant that. Decimus _would_ force them to work together.

"You've got potential, Vakarian. Live up to it. Dismissed."

Cadmus turned and strode out through the door. Potential. So Decimus hadn't dismissed him out of hand…not yet. Cadmus made his way to his office. When the door opened, an angry voice lashed out at him. "You're a coward, Vakarian!"

Nissa stood next to the door, waving a data pad in her hand. She was already disobeying the chief so soon? That didn't take long.

"I apologize, Nissa. I shouldn't have done it. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just…"

"Stop playing dumb. It's not that. It's sicing your wife on me. That's pure cowardice."

Cadmus walked to his desk and sat, confusion etched on his face. "I have no idea what you mean."

Nissa slammed the data pad down on the desk. "Explain this then!"

Cadmus looked down. It was an e-mail sent from Laelia to Nissa. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. It was worded quite politely, but contained clear hints that if Nissa ever came onto Laelia's husband ever again she'd find herself in world of hurt.

"I did not tell her to e-mail you," Cadmus spoke as evenly as possible.

"I don't believe you," Nissa snarled, making her way to the door and exiting loudly as she stomped out.

Cadmus pushed back in his chair, now allowing himself a large grin. What Laelia had just done, it pleased him more than anything else in the world right now. Laelia might look fragile but she had a solid backbone. He knew that in marrying her, _he'd_ been the one to draw a perfect gem out of common earth.


	7. Success

Cadmus trudged into the precinct. He was tired this morning. In the past couple months, several cases had kept the team at work late into the night. Most days when he arrived home, all he cared to do was crawl into bed for a long sleep. This, however, was often interrupted by Laelia's fertility cycles. It wasn't that he didn't like trying for a baby with her, but baby sex included an intense pressure that romantic sex lacked. When trying for a baby, there was always that niggling worry in the back of his mind questioning if they would be able to make a baby come to fruition _this_ time.

Six months ago he and Laelia had kept their appointment with Dr. Lisan, hopeful that he could discover why they had been unable to conceive. After a battery of tests, the salarian doctor had informed them that nothing in particular was wrong. They were simply one of those couples that had a difficult time. Dr. Lisan had then suggested a procedure that could provide an immediate pregnancy—an egg taken from Laelia could be fertilized with Cadmus' sperm and then through an operation, placed in her womb. Cadmus and Laelia both knew some turians desperate for a child had chosen this option. However, in their society, children produced in such a way suffered from their method of conception. Technology had provided untold advantages, but conception was one area where turians had remained mired in tradition. Turian couples and their artificially inseminated children faced shameful stigmas in whispered gossip. For this reason, Cadmus and Laelia had explored other options, inquiring what else could be done. Dr. Lisan detailed medications they could use to enhance their possibilities of pregnancy, though none were 100% successful. By mutual agreement, Cadmus and Laelia had decided they would try the medication for six months and if nothing came of it, they'd consider the operation.

Cadmus contemplated as he walked down the hall to his office. In a week, their six months would be up. He knew the idea of artificial reproduction had Laelia worried. She'd been so hopeful when they'd left Dr. Lisan's, sure that the medication would ensure her pregnancy within a month. She was disappointed when it hadn't happened, but not despondent. As the months went by, she grew increasingly sad. Cadmus hated to see her so depressed. His primary goal in life at the moment was to provide her with the one thing she wanted most and he hadn't been able to do it yet. This knowledge gnawed at him daily, causing him to feel all the more weary.

Cadmus entered his office, dragged himself to his chair and collapsed into it with his hands on his head, his elbows on his desk. Maybe he could sneak in a nap before Decimus noticed. His chief had mellowed towards him somewhat. He continued to call Cadmus into his office for regular quizzes over the rule book, but Cadmus' instrumental role in bringing a successful conclusion to various tough cases had pulled Decimus off his back. His chief had begun to give him credit, even if it was just a gruff, "Good work, Vakarian" after an arrest. Cadmus still wondered how much he'd be required to succeed for "Vakarian" to become "Cadmus."

Cadmus reached out one hand to flip on his work data pad lying on his desk. His omni-tool had beeped incessantly this morning indicating several files and e-mails that had come in over night. Cadmus perused his in-box first, scanning for anything important. One of the messages was a security summary. He received these every two weeks. They detailed information on various suspects recently arrested from across the galaxy, a comprehensive way for detectives to keep track of criminals' locations and activities from one planet or station to another. Kepel was the team member assigned to scour these reports, but they all received them. Cadmus, too tried to focus on a heavy case, opted to skim the bland report. He noted a few familiar names, criminals that had been on the Citadel at one time or another but had moved on. He was about to close the report when a jarring name caught his eye: Furin Par.

Cadmus sat up straight in his chair. He'd continued to investigate Furin Par's link to the Pavo Foundation on Palaven, but his time had been limited of late. He'd concentrated less and less on the volus' case, gradually convincing himself that there was nothing sinister in the case after all. As he stared at the report, his suspicions came back to him in full force. Cadmus' blood raced as he read the report for a second time, hardly believing what his eyes were seeing.

_Furin Par: Deceased. Furin Par died in Fatum as a result of approximately 43 stab wounds. Death is under investigation. Foul play is suspected._

If he hadn't been so shocked, Cadmus would have laughed. Foul play was suspected? With 43 stab wounds? Of course it was foul play. Cadmus set his data pad on the table and interlocked his fingers. His fatigue had vanished. Furin Par had been viciously murdered in a prison on Palaven. The number of wounds indicated more than a simple disagreement between inmates. This death was meant to shout something to those who understood its meaning.

Cadmus turned to his computer, his talons flying over the keys. In seconds he'd found the connection he wanted—the warden of Fatum. He waited anxiously for the few seconds it took for his call to be answered. When it was, a gray-faced turian with white tattoos appeared on the screen.

"Detective…Vakarian, how may I be of service?"

"Warden Castor, I just received a report on the death of one of your inmates, Furin Par."

The warden stiffened at the volus' name. "Yes," he answered slowly. "Blemish on my record. What do you want to know?"

"Do you have any leads on the perpetrator?"

"None yet. The cameras in that section of the prison had been disabled."

"Purposefully."

The warden's mandibles flexed. "Detective, we haven't spoken widely about this. Do I have your word of honor what I say on this call is confidential?"

"You do."

"Well, then," the warden said, taking a deep breath, "We suspect an inside job. Not an inmate, a guard."

Cadmus held his breath for a few seconds, his heart racing. "Have you any suspicions as to the identity of this guard?"

"No," the warden answered, distress evident in his voice. "No evidence has come to light that points us in any direction. The murder weapon has been identified only by the wounds. We haven't recovered it. All logs for the night were erased, our systems hacked. We know who was on duty, but all have been cleared. This has put me in a very uncomfortable position."

"I understand," Cadmus agreed, able to commiserate with Warden Castor's misgivings.

"As for the volus, he was horribly mutilated. The manner of his death, even the very happening of it, surprised us all. He was a model prisoner, meek and kept to himself, the least likely to have been killed in such a way."

Cadmus sucked in a slow breath. "Have you formed any opinions as to the reason for his death?"

The warden's mandibles moved in and out rhythmically. "If you ask me to speculate, I would say this death was meant to send a warning, a message saying in effect, 'Stay in line or this will be your own fate.'"

Cadmus nodded in agreement. That's exactly what it meant.

"Now that I've answered your questions, detective, mind letting me in on why you're so interested in our volus' death?"

Cadmus swallowed, thinking. He'd made the call to the warden impulsively. He wasn't even supposed to be investigating Furin Par as Decimus had in no uncertain terms ordered him to drop it. Calling the warden might have been a mistake. "Furin Par was arrested here on the Citadel several months ago. The security summary surprised me. It seemed a strange death for a petty thief."

"Well, if you come upon anything there that will help in our investigation, send it our way."

"I will." The screen went blank as the connection was cut. Cadmus leaned back in his chair, putting order to the whirlwind of thought in his mind. Furin Par had been arrested on the Citadel for apparent "merchandise theft with the intent to regain profit." Furin Par had been seen entering and leaving the main building of the Pavo Foundation on Palaven several times. Furin Par had been transferred to a prison on Palaven. Within six months of the transfer, Furin Par had been viciously murdered.

Cadmus bolted upright in his chair, tapping on his computer and bringing up the Pavo Foundation's financial files. He'd never been able to make a connection. But maybe he was looking in the wrong place. What if Furin Par hadn't been on the foundation's payroll, but someone else had. Someone who was higher up than Furin Par. Cadmus slapped his hand on the desk in frustration. Although he had a good eye for evidence of all kinds, he wasn't an expert on finances; that was Kepel.

Cadmus sat back again, a hand to his chin as he considered. He wanted to ask Kepel to look at the files, but he knew the salarian least of all his teammates. Kepel usually kept to business, his observations always stated in his brief, staccato way of speaking. Cadmus didn't know his opinion of Decimus. Would it offend Kepel's sensibilities to work on something the chief had forbidden? Cadmus drummed the three fingers of his other hand on the desk. How could he ask Kepel to investigate without giving away he was working against orders?

Cadmus put his hand to his ear. "Kepel."

"Cadmus?" came the salarian's quick, choppy voice.

"I'm sending you a file."

"Which case?"

Cadmus clenched his jaw. This was the tricky question. "It's not official yet. It's something I'm curious about. I've noticed a tie from the Citadel to an organization on Palaven. It's possible there's a criminal connection."

"Which organization?"

"The Pavo Foundation." Cadmus felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Turian charitable organization for the advancement of intergalactic education."

"That's the one."

"Interesting," Kepel stated. He did, indeed, sound intrigued. "What do I look for?"

"Anything out of the ordinary. Any connections to someone on the Citadel."

"I will get back to you as soon as I can. Kepel out."

Cadmus lowered his hand from his ear, then flashed on his omni-tool, tapping away. When he finished, he pressed back into his chair. The file was sent. Now he'd see if anything came of it.

* * *

Cadmus continued to work on other cases throughout the day, but his mind constantly turned back to Furin Par. He was on tenterhooks waiting for Kepel to get back with him. Paeon noted his agitation when he came in to discuss a case. His friend stayed only a few moments, recognizing that whatever Cadmus was working on had his full attention. Cadmus excused his distraction, but Paeon, always the conciliatory turian that he was, waved his excuse away.

Cadmus attempted to bide his time. No case on his desk, however, could compare to a homicide. Cadmus had investigated exactly zero murders so far on the Citadel. The turians in Bachjret were just too refined. There'd been a couple attempts as a result of domestic disputes, but nothing else. Most of his days were spent on petty criminals and thieves. Furin Par's case on the other hand had the potential of a huge payoff for his career. So when his omni-tool suddenly beeped, alerting him to an incoming call, Cadmus promptly put his hand to his ear.

"Yes?" he asked eagerly.

"Detective Vakarian?" Cadmus felt the letdown of disappointment. It wasn't Kepel.

"Speaking."

"It's Dr. Lisan. Your wife is at Detrix Hospital. I'd like you to come immediately."

Cadmus' gut twisted. "What's wrong?"

"I'd like to explain in person. Please come."

"On my way."

Cadmus jumped up from his desk and rushed over to Decimus' office, barreling into his chief's private space. Decimus was sitting at his desk, gazing intently at his computer.

"Something on your mind, Vakarian?" Decimus asked humorously, looking up.

"I need to leave, sir. My wife's just been taken to the hospital."

Decimus waved a dismissive hand. "Go."

"Sir." Cadmus turned and hurried down the hall, ignoring Nissa who was just passing and sent him a haughty look. As he made his way to the elevator, he imagined the worst. Cadmus was not one for superstition. But as the elevator climbed, he couldn't help but mutter a prayer inside. _Spirits, preserve her life._

* * *

When Cadmus reached Detrix Hospital, he waited impatiently in a line at the receptionist's desk. An asari in front of him had her child with her and was concerned over some disorientation the child had experienced after a biotic lesson. Cadmus groused inside. Who cared about a child's vertigo when Laelia was somewhere within the confines of the hospital possibly dying? The receptionist was trying to convince the asari that a doctor would be with them soon, but the asari kept arguing that her child needed to be seen faster. After of couple minutes of banter, Cadmus couldn't take it any longer. He stepped in front of the asari and stared down at her from his height.

"Take a seat," he growled out in his most authoritative C-Sec voice.

The asari timidly blinked at Cadmus, still decked out in his C-Sec armor. She toddled away with her child in tow and sat down at the far end of the room.

"Thank you," the asari receptionist intoned gratefully. "I thought she'd never leave me alone. She's been back up here five times already."

"I need to see my wife," Cadmus replied quickly, brushing off the asari's thankfulness.

"Name?" the receptionist asked, her voice annoyingly pleasant at a time like this.

"Laelia Soranus."

The receptionist tapped the keys on her computer too slowly for Cadmus. It took all his self-control not to swing the computer around and do it for her. "Yes, Dr. Lisan has authorized you. Follow me."

Cadmus followed the asari who walked too slowly for his liking. The doors to the hospital rooms opened and Cadmus glanced every which way, searching for his wife through the glass walls. Finally the asari stopped and touched a panel next to a door, announcing Cadmus' arrival. Cadmus fixed his eyes on his wife laying on a gurney in the room. Laelia's eyes were closed and she moved not a muscle. His heart pumped. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully. Was she, indeed, sleeping or had she already left him?

The door to the room opened and a couple salarian doctors emerged. One of them was Dr. Lisan, obvious from the rare purple markings on his horns. The other doctor left with the asari. Dr. Lisan turned his attention to Cadmus.

"What happened?" Cadmus demanded, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"She's fine," Dr. Lisan assured. "She's resting now."

Cadmus stomach unclenched. She was alive. "Why is she here?"

"Let's sit," Dr. Lisan suggested, gesturing down the hall.

"No. Tell me _now_."

Dr. Lisan smiled, a large salarian grin that irritated Cadmus. "You can calm down, detective. Despite my call, your wife isn't as bad off as I feared. She came in with pain in her abdomen, some bleeding. When I examined her, it was obvious. Your wife is pregnant."

"She is?" Cadmus stammered, shocked as the news registered in his mind.

"If all goes well, in eleven months, you'll be a father."

Cadmus breathed in and out slowly. Relief flooded him at first. They'd finally done it. They'd managed to get pregnant. Then the fear returned. "_If_ all goes well."

"I won't pretend this is going to be an easy pregnancy," Dr. Lisan explained. "If she hadn't called me when she did, she could have miscarried today."

Cadmus gazed at Laelia through the window. It would have killed her to have tried so hard and lost this child.

"We were able to stabilize her," Dr. Lisan went on. "She'll have to be closely monitored throughout the pregnancy, but her prognosis is good."

"The baby?" Cadmus asked, his eyes still glued to Laelia.

"We did a DNA analysis. It's healthy and strong. Do you want to know gender?"

Cadmus considered through his slow-thinking stupor. Would Laelia want him to know before her? "When will she awake?"

"We gave her some medication to help her rest. She was quite shaken. She should come to in about thirty minutes."

"I'll wait."

"Then go ahead and sit with her. Let me know when she wakes up." Dr. Lisan patted Cadmus on the arm, then moved off to another room.

Cadmus stepped through the door, then up to the bed. Laelia's eyelids fluttered slightly. He wondered what she was dreaming. Maybe good dreams of a child to love and care for. He sat down in a chair next to her and instinctively reached out to run a talon gently across her cheek. Her dream had come true. He couldn't wait for her to wake up so they could share it.

The minutes passed by slowly as Cadmus sat silently, pondering. Was he ready to be a father? Did he have what it took to raise a child? What was it like to guide someone utterly new to this life? He felt the sudden weight of responsibility on his shoulders. It would be up to him to shape his child into a form of excellence and fortitude. He thought back to his own father, how he'd spent his time with Cadmus' brother, less impressed with his second son. Cadmus promised himself one thing: his child would not be neglected. He would give this child his full attention.

Cadmus was pulled out of his musings when a soft moan filled the room. Cadmus stood immediately and looked down to see Laelia's eyes open, slightly disoriented. He smiled.

"Cadmus," she breathed. "Cadmus…"

"I'm here."

"I…there's a baby…"

"Dr. Lisan informed me."

Tears began to mist Laelia's eyes. "Is the baby…"

"Healthy and strong."

"Thank the spirits," Laelia breathed out.

Cadmus reached under the sheet to take her hand. "You'll have to be monitored during the pregnancy. They want to assure there are no further problems."

"Yes, of course, of course…Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"You look…scared."

Cadmus shook his head. "Scared for you alone. Though, I admit, the idea of being a father is…daunting."

Laelia now smiled and gripped his hand tightly. "You're a good turian. You'll be a good father."

He was grateful for her trust. He had not a doubt Laelia would be a perfect mother. About himself he was far less sure. "Dr. Lisan can tell us the gender. I wanted to wait until you could hear as well."

Laelia's eyes lit up in excitement. "I want to know."

"I'll find the doctor." Cadmus left the room and sighted Dr. Lisan not far away. He paced towards him, his stomach suddenly lurching in anticipation. If the baby was female, her upbringing would fall mostly on Laelia. He would play the part of protector. If a male, Cadmus would be bound to raise him with a sense of duty and honor. He didn't know at the moment which he preferred, though he thought a son would be much easier to rear. He could understand a male; females were still quite mysterious to him.

When he reached Dr. Lisan, the salarian had already turned to head back down the hall and smiled again when he saw Cadmus. "She's awake."

"Good. Let's go then."

Cadmus followed the doctor back to the room. A nurse had come in and propped Laelia up on the bed. Cadmus stood next to her. She reached out and grasped his hand as they both stared in expectation at Dr. Lisan.

"I always enjoy this part of my job," Dr. Lisan said, sliding a finger over a data pad. "Here's the report. It looks like you're going to be the proud parents of a son."

Cadmus heard Laelia crying happy tears. For his part, he felt relief wash over him. He could relate to a son, raise him in the ways of turian males. He imagined all the fun he would have with his son, teaching him how to fight hand to hand, how to shoot and how to flush out an enemy. He was going to be a son to make his father proud.

* * *

Cadmus called Decimus to let him know he wouldn't be back for the rest of the day. Decimus didn't seem to care one way or the other, agreeing in an offhand manner. As Cadmus supported Laelia on their way back to their apartment, he enjoyed basking in her ecstatic joy. She alternated between dazed happy shock and discussions of names and nursery preparations. When they finally arrived back at the apartment, she instantly headed to the guest room. Cadmus could guess at her thoughts—she was already transforming the guest room into a nursery in her mind. Cadmus decided he'd fix dinner. She didn't need to be in the kitchen right now. She should relax and take it easy.

He made his way to the kitchen and prepared a simple turian dish. He wasn't a good cook. He knew nothing but bachelor meals. Despite this fact, when he'd finished, Laelia gratefully accepted his efforts, caring little about how the food turned out. Nothing could bring her down from her blissful heights.

They ate in the living room, Laelia propped up on the couch, persistent in her gushing. "We'll need to look for a turian pediatrician."

"I'm sure there are plenty on the station."

"But I'll need to research them."

"You have months to do so."

"Yes, but earlier is better."

Cadmus smiled as he took another bite of dinner. He'd never seen Laelia so giddy with excitement. It pleased him deeply.

"They say turian babies do best surrounded by the color silver."

"I don't think it matters what color we put in his room," Cadmus spoke quietly, biting back the laughter that threatened to escape.

"Well, it can't hurt."

"I suppose so," he admitted, staring at Laelia, his mouth opening in a wide grin.

Laelia looked back at him and suddenly narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"It's good to see you so happy."

Laelia smiled then and bowed her head. "I…I haven't been the most pleasant wife, have I?"

Cadmus set down his bowl on the coffee table and walked over to the couch, kneeling down on one knee next to her. "You've been the perfect wife. I'm just pleased I could finally give you what you wanted so badly." He leaned over and touched his mouth to hers. She responded and they kissed what Cadmus considered their most passionate kiss in several months.

Cadmus pulled back and stood up. "I'll clean the dishes. You rest." He had a duty now to both Laelia and his son. What was best for the mother was best for the son.

Cadmus picked up the dishes, then made for the kitchen. He hadn't been there for but a second when a beeping sounded. He placed the dishes on the counter and flipped on his omni-tool. He'd received an e-mail marked urgent. It contained only one sentence: _Call me._ It was from Kepel. Cadmus remembered that he'd shut down his comm, not wanting to be disturbed while he and Laelia celebrated their success. But if Kepel had found something in the Pavo Foundation's records…

Cadmus tapped at his omni-tool, reconnecting his comm. He put his hand to his ear. "Kepel," he heard his salarian teammate's voice answer.

"Cadmus. Have you found something?"

"I need to meet with you."

"I can come in early tomorrow."

"Not tomorrow. Tonight."

"Tell me over the comm, then."

"I must meet with you privately."

"Kepel, what have you found? Why…"

"Not now. Meet me in fifteen minutes. I'll send coordinates." Cadmus' comm went dead. His omni-tool beeped almost instantaneously, having already received Kepel's coordinates.

Cadmus' mandibles flexed in and out. He sensed the urgency in Kepel's voice as well as a hint of fear. He'd have to leave Laelia for a time. He walked back into the living room. "I have to go out. Work call."

Laelia smiled. "That's fine. I need to contact some friends anyway."

Cadmus stifled a chuckle, knowing she couldn't wait to share the good news. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Alright."

Cadmus turned, glancing back once more to see Laelia already tapping on their personal computer, probably compiling a list of everyone she needed to brag to.

* * *

Cadmus traced the coordinates Kepel sent him. He found himself standing on a swath of grass in a shadowed part of the Presidium, a location behind a mostly unused stairwell. The Presidium sky had darkened, casting the hidden spot into almost total darkness. As Cadmus waited for Kepel, he tried to determine what Kepel had found that required such secrecy. Whatever it was, Cadmus perceived that his misgivings regarding Furin Par were being proved right.

Kepel finally appeared, strolling across the grass, not down the stairwell. The stairwell was the only legitimate way to get down to this part of the Presidium. To come across the grass, Kepel had to vault several barriers. He clearly didn't want to be seen. He marched up to Cadmus and without any preliminary greetings, launched into an explanation.

"I have surveyed the financial accounts of the Pavo Foundation. I have found something of interest."

"Show me," Cadmus insisted. Kepel stood next to Cadmus and produced his data pad.

"These transactions here."

Cadmus read the name Kepel pointed to. Rutilus Pericul. A number of large and regular transfers had been made to this turian. "Who is he?"

"He does not exist."

Cadmus tilted his head. "Explain."

"There is no record of this turian."

Cadmus rubbed his chin. Turians kept immaculate records. It could be possible for a turian to slip through the cracks, but highly unlikely. "Why didn't you tell me this at the precinct?"

Kepel rubbed his scarred horn nervously. "There is no _official_ record. However, I recognize the name."

Cadmus' heart skipped a beat. "He's on the Citadel?"

"Not now."

"Who?" Cadmus asked warily.

Kepel rubbed his horn more vigorously. "There was a day I…listened to the chief's private conversation."

"You eavesdropped?"

"Yes," Kepel affirmed. Cadmus understood why admitting such a thing would make the salarian nervous. "He was arguing with Aiolus."

The name was familiar, though Cadmus hadn't heard it in months. He remembered. "His brother." The one Cadmus had replaced.

Kepel bobbed his head. "Decimus was upset. I heard little. They argued in whispers. But I recall one statement clearly: 'Calling yourself Rutilus is illegal. Get rid of the name.'"

Cadmus intuited where Kepel's conclusions had been drawn. "You think Aiolus has an unregistered name."

Kepel swallowed visibly. "I do not think. I know."

"How?"

Kepel produced a rather detailed chart. "I traced Aiolus' locations, then Rutilus Pericul. Look."

Cadmus read the chart. It started from about eight months ago, the same time Cadmus had come to the station. Aiolus had left a few weeks earlier, as Cadmus remembered. Kepel noted Aiolus had gone to Tridend. No surprise there. But then he'd left Tridend, showed up on Palaven. On Palaven he'd traveled all over the planet. And by coincidence, Rutilus had deposited large sums of credits at every place Aiolus had been. "These sums…"

"They match the credits paid out by the Pavo Foundation to Rutilus Pericul."

Cadmus put a hand to his neck, rubbing it as he paced and thought. Decimus' brother, Aiolus, was Rutilus Pericul. He'd been on the station with Furin Par. He had a connection to the Pavo Foundation. And Aiolus had been transferred suddenly, without a word from their chief as to why. "What do you think, Kepel?" he murmured.

"I believe it is possible Chief Mehrkuri has shielded his brother. Perhaps has even participated in the deceit."

Cadmus shook his head, trying to make sense of it. Decimus had never seemed one to break the law, even in regards to family. Cadmus thought if Decimus caught his own mother committing a crime he'd haul her in to confess. But then, Decimus also prided himself on being from Tridend. Tridend turians might stick together even in crime.

Cadmus stopped pacing when a thought occurred to him. "Let me see the chart." Kepel handed over his data pad. Cadmus ran a talon down the list of places Aiolus had been. When he found what he was looking for, he tapped loudly on the pad. Aiolus had been in Argentum, the city where Fatum Prison was located, on the very day Furin Par had been killed. Decimus' brother wasn't just passing credits. He could very well be a murderer. "Don't tell anyone about this, Kepel. Do you understand?"

"I do. What is your plan?"

"I need to compile solid evidence."

"I can help. I will search for records here on Rutilus. We must know who Aiolus contacted on the Citadel, if anyone, under his false name."

"I agree. Do that. Let me know what you find. But be careful. We're swimming in deep water here, Kepel."

"I will be careful."

"Go."

Cadmus watched Kepel backtrack across the grass. He sensed the danger he had just put his teammate in. Whatever was going on here went far beyond what it had appeared. They were moving into deep water for certain. Cadmus just hoped they'd be able to swim.


	8. Drowning

Cadmus scratched the back of his neck with a talon while waiting for an e-mail to come through on his data pad. He glanced over for a second, checking on Laelia. They both occupied the bed in their room, Laelia sleeping, Cadmus sitting up, back against the wall, working. Dr. Lisan hadn't been wrong about a hard pregnancy. They were only a month farther along and Laelia had been bedridden several times already. Bouts of nausea and intense abdominal pain assailed her almost daily. Dr. Lisan monitored her at home, coming to their apartment so she wouldn't have to make the trek to the hospital. The good news was that even though Laelia suffered, the baby was growing strong and on schedule.

Cadmus laid his data pad on his lap, taking a break to watch Laelia breathe in and out slowly. His eyes scanned down her body and landed on her abdomen. It was strange to think his son was in there, miniscule at the moment, but his son nonetheless. They'd thought of several names, but none that stuck at present. Personally, he preferred Garrus. It was an older name from turian history and meant "unmovable fortress with the strength of many warriors." Interestingly, he hadn't been the one to originally suggest it. Laelia had done some research and come up with a list of male names she liked the sound of. They debated them now and then, the pros and cons. Laelia was certain the fate of their child depended on a good, solid name. Cadmus pointed out that Garrus was quite acceptable in this regard. What more could they want but that their son stood as a solid rock, one warrior worth a dozen?

Cadmus lifted his data pad back up, peering at its contents. Slowly but surely, he and Kepel were making progress. They'd been overly cautious. Both agreed that working on the case at the precinct was too risky. This meant any work on the case had been done off hours and this slowed down their search for evidence. When they did find something, they had an additional layer of security: Kepel had created a unique encryption for their e-mails to each other. Cadmus had just decrypted Kepel's most recent e-mail. So far they had discovered that Aiolus Mehrkuri, alias Rutilus Pericul, had been careful on the station, keeping his encounters under his false identity to a minimum. A hotel room had been rented in Zakera, a couple purchases made in the Presidium. Cadmus had nonchalantly interviewed the hotel manager and the clerks, but none had seen Rutilus. Records indicated the hotel room had been rented, but not used, and the purchases in the Presidium had been carried out over computer and sent to the hotel room by the clerks. The purchases themselves were innocuous—a current turian novel called _Sea of Faces_, and two falusi, purple flowers from Palaven. Even though there had been no indication anyone used the rented room, the purchases had disappeared nonetheless. Cadmus might have suspected some kind of tryst, but since the room had been unused, he didn't consider that likely.

Cadmus' mandibles contracted tightly against his jaw. Aiolus had been careful to a fault. At this point, all that could tie him to his alter ego was a chart of locations and transactions. It was circumstantial evidence that led nowhere. Cadmus knew from memorizing Decimus' handwritten rulebook that he had essentially nothing as far as evidence was concerned.

Cadmus read through Kepel's e-mail. It detailed Kepel's progress on their current line of inquiry—searching through video surveillance during the time Aiolus was on station. If they could track Aiolus, maybe they could connect him with Furin Par. Kepel knew about Furin Par. Now that they were partners in a covert operation, Cadmus had come clean, fessing up to his research over the past several months. Kepel didn't bat an eye. In fact, he'd seemed impressed, though he mentioned that he hadn't expected a turian to ever disobey direct orders. Cadmus had to admit that stung a little. Even so, he'd been right to be suspicious all along.

Kepel's e-mail was a quick report stating he'd turned up nothing yet. Aiolus had moved all over the station. It could take months to track all his whereabouts. Cadmus reached over to tap a button on his night side stand, extinguishing the light in the room. Laelia stirred slightly, then settled back down. Cadmus set his data pad on the stand, slid down the bed and rolled over to stare at his wife in the dark. He'd often heard that female turians "shone" during pregnancy. It was an odd description, and yet, as he pondered his wife, he figured that description fit his observations perfectly.

* * *

Cadmus strolled into work hoping he didn't meet Decimus in the hallway. He'd been doing all he could to avoid his chief lately. He had to fight himself to give Decimus the respect his station was due. Every time he saw the turian, Cadmus couldn't help questioning if what he saw was simply a façade. Was Decimus the dutiful chief he appeared to be? Or was he truly a traitor at heart using his position to protect his criminal brother? Cadmus could hardly take Decimus' speeches about law seriously anymore knowing that they now smacked of hypocrisy. It was best if he encountered Decimus as little as possible.

Even so, Cadmus hadn't yet passed judgment on his chief entirely. He hadn't been able to reconcile what he knew of his chief's character to the idea that he was a lawbreaker. Why would a turian who went to all the trouble to hand copy and memorize Citadel law turn on it? Could even family pressure trump that? Cadmus wondered if what Kepel had overheard might not be so damning if they knew the entire context of the conversation. Maybe Decimus didn't know the acts his brother had committed under a fake persona. Maybe Decimus had simply discovered Aiolus had rented a room under a false name and given him the chance to rectify his action. Or maybe not. Maybe Decimus knew everything.

Cadmus rushed down the hallway to his office. Decimus was nowhere in sight. He sighed with relief as he entered his office and found it likewise empty. He'd only sat down for a couple seconds, however, when the chime sounded at the door. In trepidation he reached out and tapped the panel that opened the door. He relaxed when it revealed Paeon.

"Come in," Cadmus greeted, pointing to the chair across from his desk.

Paeon sauntered in and settled down in the chair. "How's Laelia?"

Cadmus smile slightly. That was Paeon, thinking of others' first. "Still rough."

"Sorry," Paeon remarked with sympathy. "Sibia's pregnancies were routine."

"Laelia will persevere."

Paeon nodded, flashing on his omni-tool to send Cadmus a file. "I've got some new information on the Gosfer case."

"Go ahead," Cadmus prompted, listening as Paeon explained what new evidence he'd turned up. Paeon had become a good friend. He'd been over for dinner several times in the last month. Cadmus had found Paeon's easy way a release from the stresses of his clandestine activities with Kepel. Laelia liked Paeon and implied he was a good replacement for Viator. Cadmus still hadn't spent any quality time with Viator since his cousin's confession. They saw each other now and again in passing, but their communication was forced and formal. Cadmus knew Viator wanted his respect back, but Cadmus couldn't give it. The mistake Viator had made was too great. He didn't dislike Viator, didn't hold a grudge against his cousin personally. But he couldn't help feeling that Viator had somehow let him down which made their interactions awkward. Cadmus didn't know Viator's own thoughts. Neither, it seemed, had the desire to cross the aisle and shake hands again, letting bygones be bygones.

Cadmus skimmed through the file as Paeon continued to review the Gosfer case. For the millionth time, Cadmus considered letting Paeon in on the Furin Par case. Paeon was an expert in surveillance. He could pinpoint Aiolus faster than Kepel. The problem, in Cadmus' estimation, was Paeon's empathetic nature. He'd gone out of his way to implore Cadmus to understand Decimus, to see the world from the chief's perspective. Cadmus was certain Paeon's first reaction to the case would be a denial that Decimus could truly be involved. Cadmus couldn't risk any information ending up in Decimus' hands. He couldn't tell Paeon until he had incontrovertible proof of Decimus' guilt.

"So you think we have enough to bring Gosfer in?" Paeon asked as he finished his line of reasoning.

"Certainly. Clear it with the chief."

"You don't want credit?"

"You take this one," Cadmus said, smiling at his friend. Yes, he'd been the one to point Paeon's efforts in the right direction, but his friend deserved the reward for his work.

Paeon smiled and nodded appreciatively, turning to the door and leaving quietly. Cadmus turned back to his computer, pulling up different cases and answering work e-mails. Nissa sent him a message about an hour in informing him Gosfer's interrogation would begin in five minutes time. Since the incident at The Flaming Core, Nissa had left Cadmus alone except for the forced month-long interaction imposed on them by Decimus. Nissa now kept her attitude towards him brief and businesslike. Cadmus, for his part, was grateful for the change.

Cadmus stepped out into the hall after a few minutes and headed for the briefing room. When the door slid back, he found Paeon inside, already viewing the interrogation on-screen. Kepel was absent. Unfortunately, Decimus was not. Cadmus nodded curtly to his chief, then sat down with his back to him, not wanting to lock eyes with the turian he had come to view as suspect. He concentrated on the interrogation, following the all too familiar good cop, bad cop routine Nissa and Selyna played out.

Gosfer, a short, stocky, greenish krogan, was voicing his insistence that he'd done nothing punishable by krogan law. "My people have been dying for centuries! We have a right to preserve our species!"

"I'm so sorry. I know it must be hard to grow up and watch your numbers dwindle. My own best friend…" Nissa was interrupted when Gosfer slammed a hand down on the table so hard Cadmus thought a table leg would snap off.

"Cut the pyjak crap! You aren't my friend. You don't care about the krogan. You just want to throw me in prison!"

Nissa pulled back, clearly miffed. "Our dad's krogan, smart-ass!"

Cadmus heard Decimus growl deeply in his throat. He'd preached on the fact that Nissa and Selyna could never reveal personal information in an interrogation. Let the criminal know you and you give him the power to control the interrogators.

Selyna tried to rectify Nissa's error, calling out authoritatively, "We do not care about your race. Harvesting hanar limbs is illegal no matter who you are."

"So your daddy's krogan, eh?" Gosfer came back, noticeably pleased he'd discovered some personal info. Nissa said nothing, obviously annoyed she'd slipped up. Cadmus tried not to feel delighted, but he couldn't help it. Nissa was getting a taste of her own medicine. "What they say about asari half-breeds must be true. They'd stick a knife in their own fathers' backs if they could."

Nissa's jaw tightened and she started to get to her feet but Selyna reached out a hand and gripped her arm, pulling her down. "Enough. We will discuss your crimes and nothing more," Selyna informed the krogan fiercely.

"I got it," Gosfer growled. "Daddy's not worth your time. Let his race die. Who cares? Go cry to your asari mommy. Bet the mangy varren hasn't given him a second thought since she tainted his offspring."

Nissa now stood, leaping across the table to strangle the krogan. Selyna jumped up and gripped her sister around the waist, hauling her back down. Decimus was already speaking into his comm. "Nissa! Briefing room! Now!" On screen, Nissa managed to collect herself, throwing Selyna off and stomping out of the room.

"Paeon, get in there," Decimus barked out.

Paeon stood, quickly exiting. Cadmus stared at the screen. He'd prepared himself for a boring interrogation: denials, some good cop, some bad cop, eventual confession. This was unexpected and far more interesting. When the door swooshed open, Cadmus looked over. Nissa took note of his presence with vivid flames firing up in her eyes.

"What was that?" Decimus demanded.

Nissa marched across the room, coming to stand in front of Decimus. "You saw," she grunted.

"You let him get the better of you."

"He deserved it."

"If you'd managed to attack him he could have claimed assault."

"I don't care."

"Stand at attention! Now!"

Nissa snapped her heels together and stared straight ahead.

"You're _going _to care. You need a lesson in self-control. You're walking a beat next week. It's time you remembered how to keep your cool."

Nissa ground her teeth.

Decimus' tone came out with every ounce of authority he possessed. "Let this teach you, Nissa, or you'll be off my team, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Nissa ground out.

"Do things right or don't do them at all. You're dismissed. Go cool off in your office."

Nissa stalked out without a backwards glance at Cadmus. Decimus turned back to the screen and Cadmus swiveled his chair, avoiding his chief's angry gaze.

Cadmus followed the interrogation as it now progressed under Selyna and Paeon. Paeon presented Gosfer with all the evidence he had that confirmed the krogan had paid hanar huge sums of money to sell him parts of their limbs. Gosfer claimed that hanar limbs grew back, so he hadn't committed any crime. Citadel law, however, didn't make a distinction. Dealing in body parts was illegal period. What had baffled Cadmus in the case was why. When the team had first figured out Gosfer was behind the hanar with missing limbs, they had been perplexed. The truth came out as Gosfer yelled at Paeon. "It's your fault, turian! _You_ released the genophage! We've got to do whatever we can to further our population! So what if we have to consume a few hanar." Hanar limbs, it was revealed, were considered a fertility treatment by one clan of krogans in particular. Or at the least, they sold them as such. When the truth came out, Cadmus felt his stomach churn, the thought of eating a hanar disgusting.

Cadmus was still contemplating what hanar would taste like when his omni-tool beeped. He looked down. He'd received a message from Kepel. It was short and to the point. _I have something. Drinks tonight._ Cadmus swallowed nervously, knowing Decimus stood only a few feet behind him. He quickly erased the message. For the rest of the interrogation he heard little, his mind consumed as he wondered what Kepel had turned up.

* * *

As Cadmus entered Jori's, he sighted Kepel sitting in the far right corner. Over the past month, they'd met in various locations, changing every time. When Kepel had sent _Drinks tonight_ in his e-mail, it indicated the meeting location. Jori's was in Tayseri Ward, far from Bachjret and a little known bar. Cadmus approached Kepel's table carefully, scoping out the small room. He didn't see anyone he knew in the bar. He slid into a seat across from the salarian who was characteristically rubbing his scarred horn. Cadmus had come to interpret this action as indicative of nerves or excitement.

"I will order you a drink," Kepel staccatoed out in a tone that revealed excitement more than nerves.

"I won't accept." Everyone on the team knew that since the incident in The Flaming Core, Cadmus had become a teetotaler.

"I thought you might make an exception when I show you what I found." Kepel waved his data pad in his hand.

Cadmus passed a talon over his forehead. Laelia would never know. But he would know. He'd made her a promise. Every time he forewent a drink, it reminded him where his loyalty lay. "No."

Kepel switched on the data pad. "Your decision. Sit." He picked up his own drink already at the table and sipped it. He pushed the data pad across to Cadmus as he sat down. "Tracking our friend proved difficult," Kepel stated, referring to Aiolus. "I decided to follow this one instead." Kepel pointed to the pad and Cadmus saw a paused video with a rotund volus in a hallway. Though volus looked almost identical in their protective suits, Cadmus had no doubt he was staring at Furin Par.

"What did you find?" Cadmus asked.

"Play it."

Cadmus tapped the video, watching as Furin Par walked down the hall and entered a warehouse. This in itself wasn't surprising as the volus had acted as a merchant broker. The video stopped. Cadmus looked over at Kepel. "This is nothing."

Kepel grinned widely. "Not at first. This volus is…predictable. He keeps to patterns. Home, employers, clubs, home, employers, clubs. _This_," Kepel pointed at the warehouse entrance, "Is _not_ one of his employers."

Cadmus took a long breath. Furin Par had broken a habitual pattern. It was a start. "Is that all you've found?"

Kepel smiled again and tapped his data pad, bringing up another video for Cadmus' review. Now Furin Par was leaving the warehouse. Actually, he was apparently being thrown out. A turian was briefly visible shoving him through the door. The turian wasn't Aiolus. Cadmus knew Aiolus looked like Decimus, dark with a thick white line down the center of his face. This turian was gray with a couple thin tattoos on either cheek. The video stopped after Furin Par departed down the hall wringing his hands.

Cadmus looked across at Kepel again. "It's odd. Perhaps I can interview the warehouse manager."

Kepel's face lost his grin. "It is a good idea, but we must be careful. Do you remember when you told me we swim in deep water?"

Cadmus nodded.

"I believe we have found a colony of salussai." Cadmus had heard of the salussai, a reptilian water species on Sur'Kesh known for their sharp bite. Kepel reached across a third time, pulling up another video. This one caused Cadmus' heart to beat strongly in his chest. Aiolus appeared at the far end of the hall. He did not walk down it, simply stood, tapping on his omni-tool and occasionally putting his hand to his ear, his mouth moving as he talked into his comm. This lasted for a couple minutes. Aiolus then turned to look down the hall, seemingly waiting for something. A few more seconds and then he took a couple steps. The video feed went dark.

"Did you break the video there?" Cadmus asked, pulse pounding through his veins.

Kepel's grin was back. "No. The feed went down supposedly by accident. But we are in luck." Cadmus watched as Kepel forwarded the video until the feed popped back up. A keeper stared into the camera. Of course. The break in feed had been detected and the keeper had arrived to fix it. The green insectoid creature stepped back and waddled back down the hall. Only moments afterwards, Aiolus exited the warehouse. According to the time stamps, he'd been inside for close to twenty minutes.

Cadmus pushed back in his seat. Here was another connection. Furin Par and Aiolus at the same warehouse. And when Aiolus showed up, the camera feed went down just like it had at the prison when Furin Par had been killed. Cadmus considered his options. He could head to the warehouse and inquire. He didn't have to mention Furin Par or Aiolus at all. He could simply get the lay of the land. Or he could confront Decimus right now with the evidence he had. He threw his second thought immediately out the window. He couldn't trust his chief even an inch. If Decimus was deep in this, Cadmus would expose himself and Kepel to immediate danger and tip Decimus off that he and his brother had been found out. He could go to Clineas…but no. The evidence wasn't solid enough to take to the Executor yet.

"I'm going to check out the warehouse," he finally decided.

"I will come with you."

"One C-Sec officer is enough. We don't want to raise too many suspicions."

"I submit we should go undercover," Kepel continued as if he hadn't heard Cadmus, "A merchant and his assistant." Cadmus got the distinct impression the salarian was enjoying this. He figured Kepel rarely left the office, his techie role keeping him out of the exciting bits of detective work.

"It's not a bad idea…" Cadmus mused. They could ask questions without raising alarm that way. "What's in the warehouse?"

"According to my records, turian household decorations."

Cadmus shook his head in disbelief. "What Furin Par was accused of stealing back."

"Yes."

Cadmus linked his fingers and thought, speaking aloud. "I'm going home and have dinner, change into civilian clothes. You find a suit to wear. Meet me in front of the warehouse in 45 minutes."

Kepel grinned again. "I will be there." He snatched up his data pad and Cadmus couldn't help but be amused as the salarian practically skipped with giddy excitement out the door of the bar.

* * *

Cadmus had apologized profusely to Laelia for having to leave her again. Fortunately, today had been a good day. Her nausea had taken a day off. He found her euphoric, her hand constantly caressing her growing abdomen. She hardly showed, but it made no difference. Her good mood meant she wasn't bothered by his announcement he had some work to catch up on. He promised her he'd return as soon as possible and was glad when she didn't question his lack of armor. Cadmus had thrown on one of his best suits, a black one with red stripes that proclaimed wealth and power, just the look he needed for a turian of business.

As he navigated various walkways and elevators towards the warehouse, he contemplated what they might discover. It was fortunate the Citadel never truly slept. The Presidium may have kept a schedule, but the station continued to be active no matter the hour. Civilians and dignitaries were coming and going at all times of the day and night. This meant most shops remained open all night, new shifts coming on when the Presidium grew dim. The warehouse would most likely still be operating.

When he was several meters away from the warehouse hallway, he saw Kepel milling about at the end, appearing consumed with his data pad and omni-tool. Whether he was playing the part or truly engrossed in data, Cadmus didn't know. His salarian teammate had dressed well, a smart cream suit with golden trim. They would definitely pass as a wealthy businessman and his assistant searching for bargains and trade options.

Cadmus halted next to Kepel, who shut down his omni-tool. "Are you armed?" Cadmus had learned as a cop on Palaven never to be without a weapon. Currently he had two. A pistol secreted inside a suit pocket and a knife sheaved in the back of his right boot. He didn't expect he'd need to use them, but one could never tell.

"Yes," Kepel confirmed. Cadmus was pleased. He'd come to appreciate the salarian's forward thinking throughout their close partnership. He'd learned that Kepel was a trustworthy and valuable teammate. In fact, Cadmus regarded Kepel as the most valuable member of Decimus' entire team, barring himself of course.

"Give me some background," Cadmus asked as they walked in parallel, traversing the hall towards the warehouse.

"This particular warehouse is owned by the Avriel Goods and Services Company. The company owns various money making ventures across the galaxy. It employs mostly turians and volus. Turians funnel the money. Volus make it."

Cadmus nodded as he walked. Typical partnership, one repeated all over turian space.

"This warehouse functions as a storage and trade unit. Products are sent throughout the station with a focus on Bachjret."

Once again, no surprise. Turian products marketed mainly to turians.

"Employs two managers," Kepel continued. "Both turians with volus assistants. One is Devion Trell. The other, the one we have already seen, is Lokas Hesles."

"What's our story?"

"You are looking to start a business, a store. Here are the plans." Kepel handed over his data pad and Cadmus quickly scanned it. It was impressive. He could hardly believe Kepel had created something like this in such a short time.

"Name?"

"Call me Vox."

"Got it." They both stopped walking as they met the warehouse doors. "Let me do the talking," Cadmus demanded.

"Agreed." Kepel fell in behind his teammate, taking up a subservient position.

Cadmus took a last deep breath and plunged ahead, opening the door. He found himself in a spacious reception area. A volus manned the desk. Cadmus marched right up to him and demanded with as much authority as he could muster, "I want to see the manager."

"Uh…" the volus stammered, glancing down at a computer. "You have an appointment?"

"No. I don't need one. I've just flown all the way from my homeworld and my ship leaves in two hours. I'm here to broker a deal as quickly as possible."

The volus seemed uncertain what to do.

"If your manager cannot see me, I _will_ go elsewhere."

"No, no…Wait a moment." The volus began speaking into his comm. "Your Name?"

"Crassus Feherian."

"Yes. A moment…A Crassus Feherian here to see you…From Palaven…Um…" The volus looked up at Cadmus. "Company?"

"Independent venture just off the ground. My inheritance came down a month ago."

"You heard that?" the volus asked. He looked back to Cadmus. "He'll be down in a moment."

Cadmus stifled an urge to smile. He'd tried to make himself seem too good to pass up— an eager turian with a load of family money trying to make it blossom into more. Most turians were not known for their financial prowess. He hoped he sounded like a naïve young turian easily parted with his money.

After a couple minutes, the doors on the other end of the reception room opened and the turian they'd seen on the video feed came gliding across the room towards them. He held out both arms and Cadmus gripped his wrists in greeting.

"Welcome! It's always good to meet another brother from Palaven."

"Thank you for taking your time to see me," Cadmus ingratiated Lokas Hesles. Up close, the turian didn't seem like much. He was at least a foot shorter than Cadmus. His smooth gray face punctuated with green tattoos on his cheeks spoke youth, not age. Cadmus guessed he was at least two years younger than himself, if not more.

"What do you want to know?" Lokas asked, stepping back and running a critical eye over Cadmus.

"I am considering setting up a business here on the Citadel, especially in Bachjret."

"There are already hundreds. It might be difficult to be successful," Lokas warned him.

"Perhaps. But my assistant has the plan my volus have created. Vox?" Kepel handed Lokas his data pad. Lokas perused the file. Cadmus hoped Lokas took the bait. Kepel had created a detailed description of what could best be called a mega-store bigger than any on the Citadel.

"You have the capital to support this?" Lokas asked, handing the data pad back to Kepel.

"Even more." Cadmus could see the excitement rise in Lokas' eyes. This deal tempted him. "Of course, I must tour your facility, understand your workings, negotiate prices. If all looks good, I will contact you in a day."

Lokas nodded thoughtfully. "Fine. Follow me."

Cadmus followed Lokas into the warehouse. Lokas gave a tour, pointing out various products, explaining where they came from, which sold the most on the Citadel, which were better imported from the Citadel out to other parts of the galaxy. Cadmus questioned the products for a time, then moved on to questions about the workers. Lokas mentioned they mostly hired volus, many learning the merchant trade as interns.

"My family has had dealings with many volus," Cadmus spoke then. "One I remember well. Furin Par. Do you know him?"

"Furin Par…The name is not unknown to me." Lokas answered without a hint of worry, but Cadmus noted his careful limitation of the truth.

"Has he ever worked for you?"

"No." This answer was forceful and Cadmus knew, actually truthful. Then what had Furin Par been doing here?

"Ah well. Tell me about C-Sec. What are the regulations they impose?"

Lokas explained various C-Sec policies, all of them accurate as Cadmus well knew from Decimus' rule book that he was only about halfway through.

"Do you have any friends in C-Sec?" The question was meant to imply ease of transaction, but Lokas apparently took it as something else.

"We sell nothing illegal, if that's what you mean." The words came out a bit too forcefully.

"Of course. I would never be here if I suspected such. I meant do your products move quickly through customs. Time is money."

Lokas narrowed his eyes for a moment, but looked entirely apologetic. "My apologies. We have few dealings with C-Sec…No, I'm afraid we get no help in that quarter. But our products come through quickly just the same. You will find the Citadel efficient."

Cadmus' keen eye saw immediately Lokas was nervous. He had lied, Cadmus was sure. He knew now this warehouse was in the thick of whatever Aiolus was involved in. His mind began planning their next actions. He and Kepel would put the warehouse under intense surveillance, track its managers and employees.

Cadmus talked for a few more minutes about inconsequential business practices. He then excused himself as he had a time limit, informing Lokas he'd contact him in a day with an answer. In the meantime, Lokas could e-mail his assistant, Vox, if he had anything to add or a deal to suggest. Lokas agreed and informed Cadmus he'd send an immediate message to his business partner, informing him. He hailed a volus over, asking him to direct the visitors to the reception area. Cadmus tried to shrug the volus off by saying they could find their own way out, hoping maybe to take a look around without a guide, but Lokas insisted.

"Show them our offices before they go," Lokas directed the volus.

Although he kept his eye out for any pertinent evidence, Cadmus found the tour through the offices tedious. The volus was slow, pausing to breathe constantly. All Cadmus wanted to do was exit and set up surveillance immediately. As they turned to leave, Cadmus paused, something catching his eye. On one of the walls hung a black plaque with silver lettering. The line on the top stood out: The Pavo Foundation.

"What is this?" Cadmus asked the volus, moving over to take a closer look. The short alien shrugged. Cadmus read the plaque. It was an award for supporting the Pavo Foundation financially. Cadmus eyed Kepel whose face echoed his thoughts. The waters grew deeper still. The evidence they had, though circumstantial, was becoming undeniable.

Cadmus and Kepel trailed behind the volus back to the reception area and bid good-bye. The receptionist muttered a quick, "Come again."

Cadmus stepped up to the exit. The doors remained shut. He glanced back at the receptionist. "The doors?" he called out in an annoyed voice, imitating his father.

"Oh…yes, the doors," the volus mumbled. Cadmus could see why this volus had been stationed out front. He didn't seem to have the sensibilities to make it any higher up. The volus tapped a code onto the keypad on his desk. The doors wooshed open.

A blue wave emanated out from the door and Cadmus felt himself violently picked up and thrown across the room. He heard a strained cry from Kepel and then felt the breath forced out of him as he slammed into the back wall of the reception area. He immediately reached for the pistol in his suit, but another burst of blue energy pinned him backwards, forcing his head back so all he could see was the ceiling. He tried desperately to move, to reach his boot, but to no avail. His assailant appeared briefly in his vision as a sharp sting struck the inside of his cowl. His final thought before succumbing to unconsciousness was how he'd never met a turian biotic until this very moment.


	9. Revelation

Cadmus awoke to the world with an immediate foreboding. His last memory flooded back intact—a turian he'd never seen before had jammed something down his cowl and through his skin. Even now he felt sore where he'd been pricked. He attempted to lift his right hand and rub at the spot, but his arm wouldn't budge. He didn't try again. Instead, he gradually assessed his current state as he awakened fully. He sensed solid bonds encasing his arms and felt his legs likewise bound. As he was sitting upright, he surmised he'd been lashed to a chair, a rather large and unexpectedly cushioned one. His sense of touch ascertained all this within minutes. The sense he still lacked was sight.

The moment Cadmus had opened his eyes, he considered that whatever had been stuck into his cowl had caused momentary blindness. However, as he took stock of his circumstances, he understood that he hadn't been medically blinded. Something rough and artificial had been placed over his eyes to prevent sight. His astute mind concluded almost detachedly that his attacker had taken this precaution to protect his identity. Cadmus, it turned out, could hardly remember what the turian biotic looked like. He couldn't even recall his tattoos.

Considering his predicament, Cadmus found himself experientially appreciative of the military training all turians underwent at a young age. He had awoken with his thoughts controlled and unimpaired. Once he understood his situation, he remained still, flashing back to one of his instructor's drills that trained turians to exude self-control during this exact type of crisis. Not letting your captors know of your consciousness could make you privy to useful information. Cadmus strained his ears, trying to pick up any noise. There was a quiet humming nearby alluding to some kind of equipment. A slight breeze also brushed over his face, though metallic smells told him he was likely in a drafty room rather than somewhere in the open. He identified the sound of breathing as well. He was not alone. For a moment he thought of calling out "Kepel," to check if his teammate had been trussed up with him, but his self-control forbid the action. Better to listen and wait.

Cadmus heard a door swoosh open to his right and a flanging voice inquired, "Is he…"

"Awake." The second voice also flanged and was the source of the previous breathing. As far as Cadmus could tell, Kepel wasn't nearby and he was alone with two turians. He contemplated how the turian in the room even knew he'd regained consciousness. He had hardly moved. His initial attempt to move his hand had most likely given him away.

Measured steps came close to him, then backed away. If they knew he was awake, he might as well try out the bonds now. He heaved with all his might against them, but to no avail. He was helpless. This sudden realization awoke his self-preservation. So far he had thought little of his life, his mind dispassionately working a problem. He came to the conclusion now that the only reason he hadn't been killed was he had something his captors wanted: information. Cadmus braced himself mentally, knowing with certainty what was soon to occur.

"Don't waste your energy trying to escape," the voice that had entered spoke quietly. He heard the sound of someone pulling out a chair that scraped against a metal floor then the creaking as a body settled into it. "I want to ask you some questions and it will go well for you if you simply answer."

There it was. Cadmus' jaw tightened. He'd been trained for this. He remembered his instructor's words: "Death is preferable to a traitorous tongue."

"Why did you come to the warehouse?"

Cadmus answered with a question of his own. "Who are you?"

"I'm not here to answer your questions. I repeat, why did you come to the warehouse?"

"To make a deal."

"What sort?"

"To use my inheritance. I want to open a store…" Cadmus cut off mid-sentence as electric pain exploded in his body, radiating out from his chest and traveling through his legs and arms. The pain ceased and he coughed violently, trying to catch his breath.

"Lying isn't advisable," the voice spoke calmly. "Perhaps I have been unfair to you. Perhaps I should have told you that we have already learned your identity, Detective Vakarian."

Cadmus took another shaky breath. _They know who I am. This is going to get much worse._

"What I want to know is how much you know about us. What led you to us?"

Cadmus said nothing, gripping the chair arms tightly, anticipating what was coming. Pain sliced through his body again, more intense this time. He tried to let it flow through him just as he'd been taught. "Make the pain yours," his instructor had advised. When the pain stopped, Cadmus felt his legs and arms seizing.

"You do know you could die?"

Cadmus tried to control the involuntary movements of his muscles. He did know that, but he had refused to think about it. It wouldn't steel his resolve.

He heard the turian asking the questions sigh. "Of course, you don't care. You're a good turian, a perfect mold. Perhaps your loyalty to community needs some motivation." He heard the chair scrape against the floor again as the turian stood and stepped back to the door. The door opened, then closed. Two sets of footsteps returned, the new set scuffling along the ground. Cadmus heard someone fall to the floor.

"Tell him," the turian commanded, "That he must speak for your sake."

"Cadmus." The voice was quiet and timid, but the staccato unmistakable. It was Kepel.

Cadmus swallowed hard. He wanted to speak assurance to the salarian, detecting the palpable fear in his teammate's voice, but he had no words. He didn't think either of them would get out of this alive.

"Tell him, salarian," the voice insisted.

Kepel's voice trembled as he spoke. "Tell them nothing." Cadmus almost smiled at the defiance in Kepel's tone. His respect for the salarian grew tenfold. Kepel cried out suddenly, and Cadmus had no doubt he was experiencing similar electric pain.

The turian spoke again, his voice rough, harsh and angry. "What do you know? Who else knows about us? Tell me now or your partner will die." Cadmus heard the sound of a gun charge readying. Part of him wanted to capitulate, to save Kepel's life. No one else on the station knew what he and Kepel knew. Their captors were ironically safe. But if he told them so, they'd continue whatever heinous criminal activities they were involved in. If he and Kepel died leading them to believe others would come, they would at the least fear the law.

Cadmus spoke for what he thought would be his last time. "If you kill him, they'll never give up looking for you."

"Do you know what's going to happen after I kill your partner, here?" the turian came back, furious. "I'm going to kill you and your wife is going to be a widow."

Cadmus found the affect of these words more powerful than the threat to his life. Regret clinched his gut. Laelia would lose him. His son would grow up without a father.

"She's pregnant, isn't she? Your child will be abandoned."

Cadmus felt anger rise within him. He couldn't understand how a turian could turn so on his own race. His captor sounded like he was enjoying ruining Cadmus' life.

"I'll die and my son will live with pride knowing I didn't grovel to criminals," Cadmus growled out.

"Or…" the turian spoke again, as if thinking, "Perhaps, after I kill this salarian, I'll seek out your wife. Maybe she would loosen your tongue." For the first time, fear overtook Cadmus' stoicism. They wouldn't hurt Laelia just to make him talk. They couldn't, could they? "Call Yellow," he heard the turian continue. "I want him to get the wife."

Cadmus struggled with his bonds as dread and fury exploded in his words. "Coward! You touch her, I'll…" The pain came again, ripping through his chest and limbs, now climaxing in his brain. Flashes of light filled his vision, and he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from screaming. When the pain ceased, his whole body shook.

"You can't lift a finger to save her. All you can do is talk so she lives."

Cadmus, sucking in rasping breaths, felt the conflict warring within him. He couldn't let Laelia be dragged into this, but he also couldn't give in. But then, what did it matter if his captors learned that they knew so little and that no one else on the station had a clue?

The turian interpreted Cadmus' lack of voice as a decision to cast his lot against Laelia's salvation. "Bring the wife in."

"No!" Cadmus cried out with effort.

"No one knows!" a voice abruptly shouted out. Kepel had broken into the conversation. "Leave his wife alone. We alone know about you."

Cadmus felt his heart sink and relief flood him at the same time. Kepel's admission had saved Laelia and yet, Kepel's giving in to these monsters felt wrong.

"So, the salarian talks. Unexpected." The turian began to pace the floor. "I assume, however, you have files. Encoded?" Kepel said nothing, but the turian spoke as if Kepel had answered in the affirmative, most likely indicating his answer through nonverbal cues. "I assumed as much. And…I'm guessing you know the code?" Once again, not a peep from Kepel, but an obvious positive answer. "Then we need you, but not him."

"Wait!" Kepel called out then screamed in pain again for a few seconds before descending into a heart wrenching whimper.

Cadmus heard the turian's steps coming close to him. He thought of Laelia living alone and his son growing up without him. _Spirits, watch over them._ The turian stopped and Cadmus felt the barrel of a gun being placed against his head. He closed his eyes, waiting for the moment of death and wondering briefly what exactly he'd find on the other side.

The brief pop of a shot sounded. Cadmus' heart pulsed rapidly as he anticipated some kind of change, utter darkness or a light or something. Instead there was a loud shriek, a garbled cry and two more rhythmic bangs. He recalled briefly when turians believed in an underworld, a place of constant torture and death. Had he done something so vile as to end up there? Was this death?

He felt something rough skimming across his face and the cool breeze in the room passed over his eyelids. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against sudden light. He glanced down and through a haze viewed a helmeted figure kneeling at his feet. As his eyes adjusted, he perceived a turian garbed in black armor undoing the bonds on his feet with an omni-tool. He scanned a small room and noted a turian dead on the floor and another dead in a chair directly from him. The one in the chair was slumped over a machine of some kind. Wires proceeded out of the machine, trailing over to Cadmus. Cadmus looked down. His suit had been opened and wires implanted into his skin. This, he assumed, had been the source of the pain. The armored turian turned his attention to Cadmus' arms. Cadmus moved gingerly when he was freed. His muscles trembled. The electric pulses his captors had run through his body had left their mark. The turian reached out and grabbed at the wires in Cadmus' chest, giving a mighty yank. Cadmus yelped as they flew out of his skin, leaving behind rivulets of dark blue blood. Cadmus fastened his suit as the turian knelt to the floor. He leaned over an unconscious salarian. Cadmus watched as Kepel was released as well. The turian turned to him. The helmet the turian wore was covered in a tinted visor that completely obscured his features.

"Can you walk?" The voice was muffled and tainted as it came through the helmet's speakers, but its cadence seemed familiar.

Cadmus stood slowly. He took a couple steps, then faltered, but caught himself from falling. "I'll make it."

"Help me with him," the filtered voice demanded.

Cadmus aided the turian and together they lifted Kepel to his feet. They wrapped the salarian's arms around their shoulders. Cadmus headed to the door.

"Not that way," the turian commanded. "There are more out there." He turned to the other side of the room and Cadmus followed. He didn't care who the turian was. If he could get them out of here, Cadmus would go anywhere he wanted. When they reached a wall, the turian flashed on his omni-tool and ran his arm over it. There was a click as the wall slid back, revealing an elevator. Cadmus and the turian dragged Kepel inside. There was only one button to push and only one way for the elevator to go—up.

"Take this," the turian muttered, reaching behind his back and unhooking a rifle that he then shoved into Cadmus' hands.

"Who are you?" Cadmus asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Not now," the turian returned as the door to the elevator opened. He pulled Kepel out with Cadmus' help. Cadmus recognized the warehouse, but as soon as he did so, it erupted in gunfire. The turian had dropped Kepel behind a crate and was now ducking down. Cadmus joined him.

"Unfortunately, we'll need to take out as many as we can," the turian voiced in disgust. He rose from his hiding place and fired off several shots. Cadmus slid to the other end of the crate and peered around. He wished he had his targeting visor. He'd have to make do. When the shooting paused momentarily, he sidled around the crate and blasted all targets in sight. One went down immediately, a head shot. Another fell back screaming, mortally wounded. When he sighted a turian in armor jump up and take aim, Cadmus rolled back behind the crate. He listened to the shots fire off, waited patiently for the pause and then snapped around again. The turian went down with one hit. Cadmus continued to fire, watching as enemy after enemy fell beneath his prowess. So it went, duck and fire, for how long, Cadmus didn't know. Eventually, the warehouse fell eerily silent. Cadmus slumped with his back to the crate breathing heavily. He hadn't been in combat like that in a long time. He actually found himself enjoying it.

"Cadmus?" Cadmus looked down to find Kepel's eyes open.

"We're alive," Cadmus rejoined, slapping Kepel on his shoulder. Kepel grimaced and blinked.

"Let's go," the armored turian spoke up again. "They might send reinforcements." The turian reached down and pulled Kepel to his feet. The salarian wavered back and forth and almost went down, but the turian put an arm around his waist to steady him. Cadmus took Kepel's arm on the other side. They picked their way through the warehouse. Cadmus hardly recognized it. Crates sat in disorder, debris covered the floor, not to mention the occasional body they passed. Eventually they made it to the reception room. The door stood open, apparently jammed. Once they emerged into the hallway, the turian directed them down the hall and out into the open. A few patrons up late into the night stared at them in confusion as they passed by, but were too intimidated to stop. Kepel's knees buckled and he hit the ground. The turian's voice sounded into his comm. "Medical to my location, now!"

The turian knelt down next to Kepel. "Don't give up, Kepel. I went through too much to get you out of there."

Kepel didn't respond, simply closed his eyes, his breath shallow.

Cadmus peered down at the armored figure. He knew Kepel? Who was inside that dark helmet? "Will you tell me who I have to thank for being alive?"

"You won't be able to take it," came a surprisingly gruff reply. The turian didn't move from Kepel's side.

Cadmus was about to inquire into the turian's meaning when a medical team arrived faster than he expected, almost as if they'd been on stand-by. Kepel was whisked onto a gurney and rolled off down the hall.

"Check him out, too," the turian insisted.

"I'm fine," Cadmus tried to placate one of the medics, but found himself hauled along as well when the turian pushed him hard in the back and spoke commandingly, "He goes whether he likes it or not."

* * *

Cadmus sat sequestered on a bed in a hospital room, annoyed he'd been forced there and trying to concoct a reasonable explanation concerning why he and Kepel had been in the warehouse. He hoped Kepel hadn't spilled his guts already. He worried over the mysterious turian that had randomly rescued them. Was he simply a friend of Kepel's? Had Kepel let someone in on the secret, informed him where they were headed and what they were doing just in case? If he had, Cadmus was both angry and pleased. Angry that Kepel might have betrayed their secret, pleased that the salarian's foresight had saved their lives.

Cadmus was still puzzling out the turian's identity when the door to his room opened. A doctor had already applied salve to his chest wounds and confirmed that he would suffer no lasting damage from the electric charges that had assaulted his body. He did have some superficial burns on his chest and along his arms and legs, an unfortunate reaction to the electric current due to the partially metallic content of his skin, but medication had dulled any discomfort. He expected the doctor to have returned to discharge him, but it was the armored turian who stepped through the door. He stood there for a moment, Cadmus assumed staring at him through the dense visor. Cadmus stared back, not wanting to be the first to look away. The turian finally came closer and Cadmus tilted his head and his blood began to race as he suddenly comprehended who was inside the suit. He hadn't noticed it during the chaos of fighting their way out of the warehouse, but the turian had a distinct limp.

Cadmus' conclusion was confirmed when the turian snapped the connections that fastened his helmet to his suit and pulled it off, saying as he did so, "You shoot as well as you investigate."

Cadmus didn't know how to respond. Decimus Mehrkuri stood before him, face grim as ever and yet, his tone complementary.

"Did…Kepel…" Cadmus finally stammered out, so flummoxed he couldn't finish his thought.

"Kepel told me nothing," Decimus answered. He limped over to a chair across from Cadmus' gurney and sat down slowly. He massaged his right leg vigorously. "I haven't seen that much activity in a while," he grumbled.

Cadmus was wary. Decimus sounded far less superior at the moment, almost as if he considered Cadmus an equal. If Kepel hadn't told him…Could he still be in on whatever was going on? But then, why rescue them?

Decimus leaned back in the chair and stared down his officer. "You should see your face right now." Cadmus sensed humor in the statement, even though Decimus' visage hadn't shifted. He was sure shock had registered on his face. "Do you think I'd work with someone whose files I couldn't decrypt myself?"

Cadmus was surprised Decimus had such skill. He said nothing realizing that Decimus held all the cards if he knew about the covert investigation.

"You may not like me, Vakarian, but I'll give you credit," Decimus ground out. "You're a skilled detective. I can guess what conclusions you've drawn."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed in irritation. The superiority had returned. "And what _do_ I think?" he shot back, forgoing all attempts at respect now that he knew he'd been found out and most likely would lose his job.

"You think I'm in collusion with Aiolus, either covering for him or in on the whole thing."

Cadmus felt ruffled. Of course that was what he thought. He just hated that Decimus knew it, too.

"You want my confession? Then I'll give it to you."

Cadmus sat silently. Was Decimus about to give himself up? Why?

"I'm guilty. Guilty for letting Aiolus place a toe on this station."

Cadmus folded his arms across his chest. This sounded less like a confession and more like an explanation. "And that means what exactly?"

Decimus shook his head. "You don't know what you've stumbled into, Vakarian."

"Enlighten me," Cadmus spoke flippantly, leaning back against his pillow, his wooden posture proclaiming his defiance.

Decimus placed his hands squarely on his knees and fixed Cadmus with a hard gaze. "Do it right or don't do it at all. That becomes even more important when facing the organized criminals you just tried to investigate tonight," Decimus paused, a look of respect slowly creeping into his eyes. "Still, I'm impressed with your findings. You're the first on the team to catch on. You worried me from the beginning. Why'd you disobey my orders?"

Cadmus didn't flinch. "Evidence came in. Furin Par and the Pavo Foundation."

"You couldn't let it go?" The question was a challenge.

Cadmus considered. He _should_ have let it go. He'd done the wrong thing and he knew it. Still…

"Don't answer," Decimus spoke shortly. "You're a detective. One of the most talented I've seen. Maybe _the_ most talented to come through my door. It's so ingrained in you, a mystery eats at you until you answer its call."

Cadmus was taken aback by the complement, and even more so by Decimus' understanding of his nature. He'd described Cadmus accurately.

"But that doesn't justify disobedience," Decimus tempered his complement.

Cadmus clenched his jaw and muttered. "It doesn't, sir. I agree."

Decimus suddenly smiled. "That's what I like about you, Vakarian. You're turian all the way. Palaven born and bred. You submit immediately when you know you should. But there's an animal in you kept silently at bay waiting to get out, to grab a hold of a criminal and shake him till you bleed him dry."

Cadmus stared. Decimus was being so open. His descriptions were so thoughtful and it sounded like he'd liked Cadmus all along.

"I should fire you," Decimus went on. Cadmus' mandibles flexed again as he anticipated Decimus' next statement. He might have to crawl back to Laelia in shame. "But I figure almost getting yourself killed and injuring Kepel is punishment enough for your impropriety."

Cadmus felt a stab of guilt. "How is Kepel?"

"Alive and well. He'll recover."

_I should have gone alone_, Cadmus chastised himself. Aloud he asked, "How did you find us?"

Decimus took a long breath as he launched into an explanation. "Your wife came to the precinct looking for you. She didn't find you in your office. As she left I met her in the hall and she inquired where you were as you'd told her you had work. She left. I didn't know where you'd gone, but I knew you'd left work on time. An hour passed and then she messaged me, worried. So I decided to ascertain which case you worked on last. Imagine my surprise when several encrypted files appeared on your work computer."

Cadmus felt chagrined. He shouldn't have put it past Decimus to spy on his team.

"I recognized Kepel's handiwork, had no trouble decoding them. I know Kepel's methods. And I saw you'd caught on to Aiolus, tracked him after his departure from the station, turned up his alternate identity, found a connection between him and Furin Par and the Pavo Foundation. I went through Kepel's computer next, and there was the video of Furin Par and then Aiolus at the Avriel warehouse." Decimus shook his head. "You should have come to me with the evidence."

Cadmus felt anger rise within him as Decimus chided him for insubordination. "For all I knew you were protecting your brother. Maybe you are even now."

Decimus' mandibles clacked hard against his jaw. "As good as your evidence is, I have more. I've been gathering evidence against Aiolus for over a year."

Cadmus let Decimus' last statement sink in. Decimus hadn't been shielding his brother, he'd been investigating him. Cadmus felt flustered and in his discombobulation, he spoke harshly. "You wanted _me_ to come to you? You didn't even let your own team in on _your_ investigation."

Decimus' eyes narrowed. "I didn't want to place my team in danger, not until I had enough evidence to guarantee Aiolus rots in prison for life."

"Did it ever occur to you," Cadmus came back, his tongue loosed and all his frustration with his chief pouring out in one moment, "that I was waiting as well? How was I supposed to know you weren't corrupt? I was gathering evidence, just like you."

Decimus sucked in a slow breath through his nose. "I have the uncomfortable feeling, Vakarian, you and I are more alike than I care to admit…You're right. I should have brought the team in long ago." The admission surprised Cadmus and cooled his anger somewhat. "I can begin to remedy that now. You already know Aiolus took on a false name. I became suspicious of him when I intercepted a bill for that hotel room he rented. I began to look deeper and found the connections you already happened upon. Only I traced Aiolus back to the time he left Tridend. He went to Palaven, got involved with some unsavory friends. The family back home wanted to break him away from them and so he was placed in my hands, the elder brother meant to whip the younger into form." Decimus rubbed a hand over his forehead then continued. "Aiolus was always trouble. Getting involved with Palaven rowdies encouraged his unruly character. They hooked their talons into him and they didn't let him go. He took a false name to do their bidding on the Citadel. He was an informer, getting their contraband on and off the station with ease." When Decimus paused, Cadmus took the opportunity to ask as question.

"What contraband?"

Decimus' eyes went cold. "My brother, detective, is a hard core drug runner."

Cadmus cocked his head, not sure he'd heard correctly. Drugs? All along this had been a drug case?

"Mostly they deal in Minagen X3. The problem is they're big, well backed and careful. Too careful. I pinpointed points of possible distribution, including the Avriel warehouse, but I didn't have enough evidence for a raid." Decimus stopped and fixed Cadmus with a glare, pointing emphatically with his finger. "Do it right or don't do it at all. I knew going into investigate would tip them off that someone was onto them. I might not find anything and give them the opportunity to change their operations, like I assume they are doing at this very moment—vermin scrambling to salvage their influence on the Citadel."

Cadmus felt the sting of disappointment in himself. He'd messed up. He hadn't done it right, even though he thought he had. Decimus' motto made sudden invaluable sense to him.

When Decimus spoke his tone was lighter, as if he'd read Cadmus' thoughts. "Don't guilt yourself, Vakarian. It's a waste of time on a good officer like you. I get why you went there. When I found you knew about the warehouse, I checked out surveillance and there were you and Kepel in your prissy suits walking down the hall. I knew what you were up to. Truth is, I've waited months for these criminals to slip up. I just didn't think the slip up would involve my own officers. At the least, now that two C-Sec officers have been directly attacked, we can go over that warehouse inch by inch. They're working it even now."

Cadmus let this new information soak in. He'd been hunting a drug cartel. And one from Palaven. It made unfortunate sense. Drugs were almost a non-issue on Palaven. It would be simple to ship them in and out.

"The problem is that this goes high. The Pavo Foundation is influential and well respected, a perfect front for drug running. They keep their books and hands clean. This cartel, they'll kill to protect their earnings. Greed is the food they live on."

Cadmus didn't want to believe what he was hearing. Turians were supposed to be known for their civic duty and lack of corruption. If this were all true, this would shake the foundations of turian space to its core. No wonder they had been so threatened when Cadmus and Kepel showed up asking questions. They were desperate to keep their empire under wraps.

"And therefore," Decimus concluded, "we must tread carefully. They now know we know. They'll move swiftly to hide this thing." Decimus stood. "But we'll be quicker." Decimus limped heavily towards the door. He turned his head back to Cadmus before exiting. "Stay here. That's an order. Think you can follow _this_ one?"

"Yes, sir," Cadmus spoke quietly.

"Good. I'll be back soon."

"My wife…"

"_Don't_ call her. Do you understand?"

"But, sir…"

"I mean it, Vakarian. I'll inform her you have survived, but she can't come here, not now. Trust me."

Cadmus nodded reluctantly. Decimus exited and the door shut, leaving Cadmus reeling with the amount of unexpected information that had just been laid in his lap.

* * *

Cadmus finally gave up on reconciling all the information he'd been handed by his chief. After thinking for weeks Decimus was guilty, he had a hard time convincing his mind his boss was entirely innocent. He also tried to reconcile all the evidence he had with this illusive drug cartel. But every time he thought he had the evidence in place, something else didn't make sense. He didn't have enough data to fill in the gaps. In the end, it was just too much for his brain to handle, what with his body injured and fatigued. Cadmus instead decided to find Kepel. He assumed Decimus' order meant he had to stay in the hospital, not his room.

He walked stiffly down the hall, his body still traumatized from his experience. He found Kepel only a couple doors down. When he entered, the salarian blinked lazily at him. His eyes were glazed over, pain medication at work. Cadmus stood by his bedside.

"How do you feel?"

Kepel smiled. "I think I will purchase large quantities of this medication for the future."

Cadmus chuckled. At least Kepel's logic and humor were intact. "Look, Kepel, I should have insisted you let me go alone. I…"

"Do not apologize," Kepel interrupted. "It was necessary, even if Decimus thinks otherwise. It was the logical course of action."

"So you've seen him?"

Kepel nodded. "He was…forthcoming about details."

"Do you believe him?"

"Certainly," came Kepel's swift reply. "I am relieved."

Cadmus could see Kepel's loyalty to Decimus had been fully restored. He believed Decimus, too. More than that—he'd begun to respect his chief, not just out of duty, but out of personal admiration. After all, their chief had thrown his safety to the wind and stormed the warehouse single-handedly to get them back. How could he not be loyal to Decimus after that?

Kepel blinked his eyes again slowly. The salarian was clearly becoming sleepy. "I need to let you rest." Cadmus headed towards the door.

"Do you know…" Kepel murmured, pausing as Cadmus turned back. "Aside from the 99.9% chance of death, the experience was the most exciting of my entire life."

Cadmus shook his head at Kepel's goofy grin. Whether it was the medication talking or not, Cadmus didn't doubt Kepel's statement. The salarian closed his eyes and began to breathe heavily. Cadmus ambled back to his room. When the door opened, he groaned at what awaited him inside. Nissa sat in the chair Decimus had occupied not more than twenty minutes ago.

"Don't look so happy to see me," she spat out.

"Why are you here?" Cadmus asked.

"Chief sent a message for the team to meet here _now_. What did you do, Vakarian?"

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered. "Let the chief tell you that."

"Why?"

"Just let him run the show, Nissa. It's better for everyone."

One corner of Nissa's mouth turned up in a smile. "You're finally falling in line."

"What?" Cadmus asked, sitting back on his bed.

"You're on his side now. Took you long enough."

Cadmus sat back, not answering Nissa, but considering her statement. He'd pretty much hated Decimus. Now…his chief defied his hate. Decimus, Cadmus now knew, would lay his life on the line for his team. In fighting against his boss' sullen personality, he realized he'd lost valuable time to learn from someone wiser and more experienced than himself.

The door to the room opened and Paeon entered. "Cadmus?" he asked with concern.

Cadmus waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not explaining until the chief gets here."

Paeon nodded once slowly, sending a curious gaze over to Nissa who shrugged her shoulders. He turned back to Cadmus. "Are you hurt?"

_Just my pride_, Cadmus thought inside, but said verbally, "Nothing to complain about."

Paeon narrowed his eyes. "A report went out earlier, a shooting down at Avriel Warehouse. You didn't happen to be involved by any chance?"

Cadmus said nothing, causing Nissa to cry out. "Hah! You were involved!"

Paeon traipsed across the room and leaned against the wall. "This is going to be interesting."

The swoosh of the door sounded again and Selyna stepped foot inside, her back straight, carrying herself in her typical regal manner. "What is this all about?"

"Vakarian's fault," Nissa immediately replied. Selyna rolled her eyes over to Cadmus.

"He's going to wait for the chief," Paeon mentioned, rescuing Cadmus from an explanation.

Selyna walked over to stand next to Nissa in the chair. "This had better be worth my time."

"Were you out with Scraul?" Nissa probed.

Selyna glowered at her sister. Besides Cadmus, Selyna was the most mum of the group regarding her private life. She hated anyone at work digging into her affairs.

"Oh don't look at me like that," Nissa complained. "Who cares if they know who you're dating?" Nissa turned back to Cadmus and Paeon. "Friend of dad's. Older than Tuchanka. What she sees in him I'll never know."

Selyna placed her hand on Nissa's shoulder and squeezed, purposefully inflaming a nerve.

"Ow!" Nissa called out, rubbing her shoulder and scowling at her sister.

Cadmus passed an eye from one to the other of his teammates in the room. He'd never really thought about it, but they were a strange bunch. The turian cop who exuded compassion, the asari sisters, one an incurable flirt, the other a stoic introvert, himself a transplant from the relatively tame Palaven. Then Kepel down the hall, reserved, logical and oddly humorous. And Decimus, their hardheaded, fierce leader. Could this group truly take down a drug empire?

The door opened for the third and final time as the imposing Decimus Mehrkuri stalked back into the room. He'd changed out of his armor, wearing a plain black suit now. In doing so, he looked like a hulking shadow, except for the white line down the center of his face. He carried a small blue vase. All eyes turned to him expectantly, except Cadmus who alone at the moment knew the reason for this gathering. Cadmus wasn't sure he wanted to hear what Decimus had to say.

The chief let the door close, but remained next to it. He pulled himself to his full height. "It is time I revealed something to you all." His eyes moved to each of them in turn, resting on Cadmus at the last and remaining there a bit longer. "It's time you knew the truth about Aiolus." Paeon, Nissa and Selyna exchanged confused glances. Their curiosity was soon quelled. Cadmus listened as Decimus repeated the story he'd heard earlier, how the chief had become suspicious, tracked Aiolus' actions, figured out he was involved with drugs when he'd discovered several of Aiolus' "friends" on Palaven had been arrested elsewhere in possession of illegal drugs. He related areas of the station he thought might be points of distribution, the Avriel Warehouse the most obvious. He revealed Aiolus had left his post on the Citadel of his own accord. Decimus thought Aiolus had sensed his newfound interest in his brother's extracurricular activities and exited the scene to prevent discovery. Decimus then explained Cadmus' involvement in the affair, praising the fact that he'd been the only one on the team who ever suspected Aiolus and he hadn't even met the turian. Paeon smiled at that, proud for his friend. Nissa glared and Selyna allowed mild surprise to grace her face. Decimus then held up the blue vase.

"Aiolus, I suspect, found ways to get products like these on station." He slammed the vase to the floor. It shattered into pieces causing Nissa to jump half out of her skin. He knelt down and sifted through the wreckage, pulling out a thin plastic vial. "This comes from Avriel. They secret it inside some of the wares."

Nissa's typically blue skin had paled considerably. "He lied to me," she spoke in anger. "I gave his friends a tour of the station when he arrived. He just wanted to show them around the Citadel, he said. He was scoping it out."

Decimus stood back up. "He used you."

"Argh!" Nissa cried out, standing and pacing in agitation.

"I recommend, Nissa," Decimus spoke authoritatively, "You pick your boyfriends more carefully in the future."

Cadmus watched Nissa punch the wall in her anger, surprised at the new information that she and Aiolus had dated.

"The evidence is solid, now that we have Avriel," Decimus continued. "But it's not enough. It only catches the small fry. I want the big fish, the fish in turian space. We're going to cut them at their roots."

"How?" Paeon asked. "If they're as big as you surmise…"

Decimus fixed his eyes on each team member in turn. "Aiolus betrayed this team. We're going to beat him at his own game. This time _we're_ going to pull off the deception."

Cadmus felt his blood race in anticipation. He'd almost lost his life this day, almost lost a teammate, almost had his wife used against him, almost been denied the pleasure of raising his son. He'd been left with wounds on his chest and burns on his body. Decimus had been right. The animal inside him couldn't wait to bleed Aiolus dry.


	10. Intervention

Cadmus stood silently staring out at the vastness of space. So much had happened in so little time. At the moment, he was sequestered in a cargo hold on a ship bound for the turian colony of Tridend. In the same room was his superior, Decimus Mehrkuri. Since neither could leave, they'd existed for the last few days in an awkward silence. Their uncomfortable isolation was necessary if Decimus' plan was to come to fruition. The plan, however, wasn't what Cadmus contemplated as he gazed out into the starry void through the one small window in the room. He thought instead of his wife. To be honest, he worried over her. As he brought her image to life in his mind's eye, Cadmus recalled the sequence of events that had led to their obligatory separation…

* * *

_One Week Ago_

After Decimus had laid out his strategy to bring Aiolus and his cronies to justice, Cadmus had settled into his hospital room, accustoming himself to the fact that this room would function as his abode for a time. In order for the plan to work, the station had to believe that he and Kepel were injured severely enough to require an extended hospital stay. It was even better, Decimus had said, if gossip on the station speculated that the two injured C-Sec officers would probably die. For this reason, the hospital had become Cadmus' temporary prison. When he asked to see Laelia, Decimus at first protested, but Cadmus asserted in no uncertain terms he wouldn't allow his wife to think him at death's door for days, if not weeks. Decimus begrudgingly granted a visit from his wife only when Cadmus guaranteed she was made of steel and wouldn't do anything to expose the plan. Decimus left, saying he'd return when Laelia arrived. An hour later, the door opened as Decimus returned.

"Your wife is here," he announced, the look on his face still unhappy. "Explain the plan to her with as little detail as possible."

"I understand," Cadmus acknowledged, stretching his neck beyond Decimus, eager to see his wife.

"There's something else," Decimus spoke in his typical authoritative manner. Cadmus sensed in the tone that Decimus was about to tell him something he didn't want to hear.

"Yes?"

"When you leave, she leaves."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered. "She's not coming with us?"

"No, of course not," Decimus shot back as if this was obvious.

"Then what do you mean?"

"Send her home."

"What?" Cadmus asked incredulously, sitting up straight on his bed.

"We're going to cut out the heart of ruthless criminality," Decimus explained. "If we succeed, we're going to be targets of retaliation. You and I will be first on their hit list."

Cadmus' heart skipped a beat as the truth of Decimus' words sank in. For the briefest of moments he regretted marrying Laelia. He hadn't thought that by tying her to him he'd be putting her life in danger.

"C-Sec would attempt to protect your wife," Decimus went on, "But the fact remains that while you are here, her life is vulnerable. She needs to be hidden for a time to guarantee her survival."

Cadmus slowly nodded. Decimus was indeed right. His advice made perfect sense.

"I'll send her in to see you." Decimus exited through the door. Cadmus stood up, pacing back and forth across the room as he formulated the steps he would need to take to protect Laelia…_and_ his son. Cadmus paused in his pacing when he heard a loud and familiar voice shouting down the hall outside his door.

"I'm seeing him no matter what you tell me!" A quieter and more controlled voice mumbled something back, then the voice yelled again. "I don't care what you think about me, I'm going in."

Cadmus smiled. He'd recognize Viator's voice anywhere and to tell the truth, he was grateful to hear it. He needed family right now more than anything.

Cadmus faced the door as it swished open. Laelia entered, Viator at her side, Decimus behind them. Laelia walked with measured steps over to him, the self-control trained in her at work even at such a time as this. She held out her hands to him and he took them in his. Her eyes glistened with profound emotion.

"They reported the shooting. All the station is talking about it. I thought…you might have…" Her voice faded.

Cadmus wanted to reach up and caress her cheek, but in the presence of Viator and especially Decimus, he refrained. "I'm fine. My injuries are superficial." His eyes flicked to Viator.

Viator stepped forward, rubbing his neck nervously. "Cadmus, you know, I'm sorry I haven't talked to you recently."

"It's my fault as well," Cadmus pacified his cousin, glancing quickly at Decimus. His chief's face was emotionless, but Cadmus felt he still had to explain. "Viator is my cousin."

"Hum…" Decimus intoned. Cadmus couldn't tell if this was simply a thoughtful response or a negative judgment. "I will leave you to talk. Take them into our confidence." Decimus bowed out of the room.

When the door shut, Cadmus led Laelia towards the one chair in the room. She sat down gingerly, still holding tightly to Cadmus' left hand. "If you had died…"

"I didn't," Cadmus spoke reassuringly. "I'm not going to abandon my son."

Laelia nodded and swallowed, working to control her emotions. She spoke quietly. "Viator came to me immediately when he couldn't get in to see you."

Cadmus looked over to his cousin who was shifting back and forth on his feet. He waved him over and when Viator stood by his side he clapped him on the shoulder. "The past is the past." Viator nodded gratefully. "And you owe me 2,000 credits."

"Uh…" Cadmus smiled at Viator's discombobulation. "Are you saying…"

"We're going to take down the supplier."

Viator backed up to the bed and sat down. "_You_ found him?"

"Them," Cadmus corrected. "Let's say, I contributed." He briefly explained his research of the past several months, not mentioning that he suspected Decimus nor alluding to Aiolus. He simply related how he'd tracked a suspect and how Avriel Warehouse had turned out to be a point of distribution for Minagen X3. He explained the events at the warehouse and that his investigation had run right into Decimus'. Laelia held his hand all the tighter as he related the interrogation he'd been put through at the warehouse.

"I don't care about the credits," Viator declared after he finished, his face expressing relief. "I'm just glad you're alive. They'll be in your account by the end of the day."

Cadmus felt the camaraderie with his cousin return. Really, he reproved himself, it had been childish for him to ignore Viator over the past months. It shouldn't have taken such desperate circumstances to heal their bond. Cadmus looked to Laelia. "We have a plan to expose this cartel. But in order to succeed, it is vital Kepel and I be assumed to be in critical condition."

"We need to pretend you're hurt," Viator intuited.

"Yes, but don't talk it up," Cadmus warned, knowing his cousin's penchant for bold words. "It's best if you only say that I'm not doing well and you don't know how this will turn out."

"Got it," Viator said, mandibles clacking.

"And now…I need to speak to my wife alone."

"Oh. Yes." Viator stood, marched over to Cadmus and gripped his right wrist. "You can trust me, cousin."

"I know," Cadmus answered. Viator nodded shortly and exited the room.

Laelia stood the second the door shut and wrapped her arms around Cadmus' waist, placing her head on his chest. "Alone…I thought I was going to raise my child alone." Cadmus patted her back.

"You won't be alone." Cadmus gently grasped her shoulders and pushed her back. "But I must require something difficult of you."

Laelia's mandibles flexed. "I'll do anything for you."

"You're going to leave this station."

"But…"

"When they are exposed, these criminals will come after me. You and our son _cannot_ be here."

"I'm not leaving you. Not now. I almost lost you, I can't leave."

"You can and you will," Cadmus spoke, his tone intentionally hard.

Laelia's mandibles flattened against her cheeks. "Do I have no say in this?"

"None," Cadmus came back, not unkindly, but firmly nonetheless. "I'm going to call your father. He will send a ship for you and take you under his charge."

"You're going to make me go back to my father? Let him control me again?" Laelia sounded betrayed, the freedom she'd enjoyed under Cadmus threatened.

Cadmus gently pulled her into him, holding her tightly. "You are strong. You can speak for yourself now. If you find life difficult, you have only to call me and _I_ will handle your father."

"It is wrong to leave my husband, especially now."

"You must," Cadmus insisted, even though her loyalty came close to persuading him otherwise. He pushed her back again, reaching down to place a gentle hand on her abdomen. "You must leave for him if for no other reason," Cadmus coaxed, appealing to the most important life in Laelia's existence.

Laelia's eyes become wet as she nodded, submitting to his decision. Cadmus bowed his head, meeting Laelia forehead to forehead. He placed both hands behind her head and kissed her tenderly, already missing her…

* * *

"Your wife is well protected," Cadmus heard Decimus' deep, gravelly voice speak aloud. So far they had uttered perhaps a dozen words to each other over the course of the trip to Tridend. Cadmus was proud Decimus had seen fit to bring him along, but that didn't mean things had become chummy between himself and the chief. "Turian fathers fiercely protect their daughters," Decimus explained.

Cadmus turned his head from the small window. Decimus sat on the floor, his back against the far wall. There was no furniture in the room, only a few crates at the back and a table with a large, oblong, silver container on it. Cadmus wondered if Decimus were married or had children. He knew so little about his chief.

"Cheer up, Vakarian," Decimus commanded. "At least you're only injured. I'm dead."

Cadmus' eyes flicked to the silver container. It was a coffin—Decimus' to be exact. Decimus had explained to his team that the only option to truly bring down the cartel was to force Aiolus to give up information and names. But Aiolus, he was certain, would make himself scarce unless the cartel thought its secret secure. Decimus had worked out a plan that Clineas had signed off on, though not without some misgivings. The Executor didn't relish handing the take down of an entire drug empire over to Decimus Mehrkuri and his team. He'd scoffed at the idea that a simple division of six officers would be sufficient. However, he'd relented when Decimus explained his idea. He granted Decimus a week to track Aiolus down and obtain his confession. After that, the whole weight of C-Sec and turian space would be brought down on the gang. Decimus feared a wholesale assault would result in the cartel going underground elsewhere and it would be lost entirely. The only safe bet, he'd insisted, was lulling them into a sense of security and springing upon them when they least suspected it. It was for this reason that Decimus had to be declared dead. Clineas had dutifully reported the death of Detective Mehrkuri during the rescue of two of his officers who were in critical condition. What made the story all the more enticing was its mystery. Clineas convincingly disclosed that as of yet, C-Sec had no explanation for why the death had occurred nor for why the officers had been in the Avriel Warehouse. He pleaded with the public to come forward with any information that would lead to an answer. Speculation and rumor abounded on the Citadel, but no one yet had discovered the truth.

Cadmus glanced over at Decimus again, now concentrating on his omni-tool. He hoped Decimus' plan would work. Decimus was counting on his brother to demonstrate turian loyalty to family. Only a dishonorable, barefaced turian wouldn't show up to a family funeral. The problem was, Cadmus doubted if Decimus' brother even had a clue what family honor was. Cadmus knew that although his relationship with his brother was practically nonexistent, if his brother had been killed, he would have been home immediately, lauding his brother's praises. Would Aiolus' turian upbringing compel him to return home if only out of familial obligation?

There was the sound of clicking outside the door to the room. Someone was working the lock with an omni-tool. Decimus shut his own omni-tool off and stood. If their operation was still under wraps, only one being would walk through that door. The door opened and shut quickly. Selyna blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. "I'm glad _I_ do not have to stay here," she proclaimed. She made her way over to Decimus and handed him a package, then walked across to Cadmus and placed a similar one in his hands. As she headed back to the door, Decimus inquired, "Any word from Paeon?"

Selyna turned to her boss, hands on her hips. "All goes according to plan. I've got to get back to my post." The door opened and shut again, clicking as she rearmed the lock.

Cadmus opened the packaged lunch. He was tired of eating such bland food, but they had to make do. Selyna generally scoured the crew's leftovers to provide their rations. Officially, she was the representative from C-Sec accompanying Decimus' body home. She sat outside the door, an honor guard over her chief. Unofficially, Decimus had wanted her along for her biotic ability. Once Cadmus had revealed that he and Kepel had been originally caught off guard by a turian biotic, Decimus had ordered Selyna to join them on their journey. Cadmus could guess why he picked Selyna over Nissa. Selyna's biotics were powerful, but she had the control to manage them. Nissa, Cadmus assumed, would come at someone with all power and no control at all. She could ruin an entire mission that way.

As Cadmus chewed a bite of food, he thought of Paeon and Nissa on the Citadel. They had been tasked with making an appearance of investigation. They would canvas the Citadel, seemingly seeking out leads to figure out what had happened to their chief and teammates. They would be sent e-mails from the hospital detailing how Cadmus' and Kepel's conditions grew worse by the day. In point of fact, their task was the most challenging of all. For the deception to work, they had to make their part believable without fault. The one part of the guise that rang true was Kepel's current condition. He actually _had_ to stay at the hospital. He'd had surgery before they left to repair damaged internal organs that had been wrecked by the electric pulses inflicted on him by their captors. He hadn't held up as well as Cadmus, but then, Cadmus intuited from what little Kepel said that he had been interrogated before Cadmus even awoke in the warehouse and for far longer. Whenever Cadmus thought of Kepel tied to a chair and tortured, his blood boiled. This cartel couldn't come down soon enough for his liking.

For his part, Decimus had chosen Cadmus as the one to present the evidence and scare Aiolus into spilling his guts. He felt Cadmus deserved the honor since he'd investigated Aiolus on his own initiative and almost lost his life in the process.

"We're about eight hours out," Decimus mentioned after he finished his lunch. He stared at Cadmus from across the dim room. Cadmus was slowly finishing his own meal. "You have a large family, Vakarian?"

"No. One brother, one sister." As they'd said so little to each other during the trip, Cadmus wondered why Decimus suddenly wanted to dig into his personal life.

"My father is dead. My mother is in her seventies. I have an elder brother, two years older. Three younger siblings. Two sisters, one three years under me, the other four. And Aiolus is the last."

Cadmus stared and Decimus chuckled. "You want to know why I'm saying this."

Cadmus nodded. Making small talk with his chief made him ill at ease.

"Because you're going to meet them soon. It's only fair to warn you they won't care for you. We turians on Tridend don't exactly like our fellows from Palaven."

Cadmus responded quietly. "I've been told that."

"Have you? Let me guess. Paeon."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered, revealing the answer to be true.

Decimus shook his head. "He researched me. I've known that for years."

Cadmus felt uncomfortable. Decimus seemed to know everything about everyone.

"I even knew Viator Lentinus was your cousin."

Cadmus crossed his arms over his chest. "What of it?" he challenged.

"Calm yourself, Vakarian," Decimus commanded. "Your relation certainly didn't earn you positive marks, but you've shown yourself made of better material than he is."

"Viator's fine," Cadmus objected, feeling a need to defend his cousin.

"I won't analyze your cousin for you," Decimus conceded. "I figure you've already done that yourself. What was it he said to you? That he was sorry you hadn't communicated in some time?"

Decimus had listened well and discerned the truth. Cadmus turned his face back to the window, not wanting to discuss his relationship with Viator anymore.

* * *

When the ship touched ground, Decimus climbed into his silver coffin leaving Cadmus to close and lock the lid. Cadmus then hid behind one of the crates in the room. He listened as the coffin was removed, Selyna voicing instructions to carry it with honor. He was to exit the ship later once Selyna had handed Decimus over to his family. As he waited, his thoughts flew back to Laelia, who at this moment was supposed to be on her father's ship headed for Palaven. Her father had wasted no expense hiring bodyguards for his daughter. She would be sheltered up in the mountains at a palatial summer home, civil servants at her beck and call, not to mention a personal nurse and physician. _Laelia's well taken care of_, Cadmus assured himself. He knew it was true. The problem was _he_ wanted to protect her. He hated that he couldn't be the husband he was supposed to be, not now anyway.

Sounds of footsteps entering the room pulled him out of his reverie. "You can come out," Selyna said in her no-nonsense way.

Cadmus rose up from behind the crate. "Let's go." Selyna walked over to the crate, wrenching it back and pulling out a long, dark cape. She threw it over her shoulders and handed Cadmus his. As Cadmus pulled his on, Selyna tapped on her omni-tool. "Any word?"

Selyna looked up at her teammate, her blue eyes gleaming under the hood. "He's on his way."

Cadmus' mandibles flared in anticipation. Aiolus was inward bound.

* * *

Selyna guided Cadmus through the streets of Mycene, capital of Tridend, following the map on her omni-tool. Decimus had laid out their path to minimize their interaction with anyone in the captial. He wanted them to receive as little attention as possible. Few asari had graced Tridend's surface which would make them immediately noticeable. However, Decimus knew Mycene by heart. His instructions led them down back alleys, keeping them for the most part out of sight.

As they traveled, Cadmus soaked in the sights of the turian colony. In its architecture and use of space, it wasn't that different from Cipritine. The main difference came from the environment. Whereas Palaven boasted shining silver deposits and greenery of rare beauty, Tridend manifested deep browns and scrubby brush. What gardens and pools they passed had obviously been forced on the natural environment. Cadmus remembered Paeon's story of how Tridend had been colonized. He understood now why it had been such a bad deal for Admiral Mehrkuri's wife and how hard it must have been to eke out a living on such a planet. No wonder Tridend produced hardened stock, turians arrogant and sullen in their manner.

After quite a while, Selyna turned out of an alley and they left the city. They traversed several hills and valleys. The landscape was harsh, a hot sun bearing relentlessly down on them. Cadmus was thankful for his metallic carapace when Selyna complained of the intense heat. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, a house appeared in the distance. It blended in with its surroundings, apparently composed of burnished stone. Although it contained two stories, it wasn't particularly large. It was nothing compared to the mansion Cadmus had been raised in. Selyna and Cadmus were mere steps from the front door when it opened outwards. A formidable turian who echoed Decimus in build and stature waved them quickly in.

"Selyna and Cadmus, I presume?"

"Yes," Selyna replied.

The turian shut the door and turned stoically, gesturing at a room to their right. Cadmus entered along with Selyna. As they did so, several figures glanced their way. Decimus stood at the end of the room, one hand resting on a desk. "My teammates," he announced. He looked to Cadmus and Selyna. "I've just been explaining matters as they stand."

Cadmus skimmed the room. The looks on the turians' faces varied. The turian that had greeted them at the door had taken a place in the corner, back to the wall, arms folded across his chest. His eyes burned. Two female turians sat on a divan. Both of them had set their jaws, though the one on the right seemed to be in a state of shock as well. Across from the females sat an elderly female turian hunched over in a large chair. Numerous cracks decorated the entirety of her skin. She was stooped over as if her back had been forced into an eternal curvature. Her face bore a ferocious look that unnerved even Cadmus.

"What's our role, brother?" the turian against the wall asked, his deep flanging voice filling the room.

"Aiolus has shamed us. Our honor can only be retained by his full confession and cooperation."

"You said he…murdered someone," the female with the look of shock stammered out.

"I said it was possible," Decimus clarified. "He was in the right place at the right time."

"Then his confession means execution," the other female spoke evenly.

Decimus took a breath before replying. "If he is guilty and his trial takes place in turian space, yes. But if he can provide information, Citadel law might preserve his life for that alone."

"Caged as an animal for the rest of his life," whispered the shocked female.

"It's no less than he deserves," the turian against the wall asserted loudly.

The old female abruptly stood, surprising Cadmus with her agility. "_Why_ did you bring them?" she screeched out, pointing at Cadmus and Selyna.

Decimus growled slightly in his throat. "I do not know who Aiolus will bring with him. They have at least one turian biotic."

At this, the old turian rasped deeply in her throat. "Biotics!" she spat out. Although most turians distrusted biotics from their own race, Cadmus surmised that Tridend turians went farther: they hated them.

"Selyna is here in the case of such an eventuality."

"And him?" the old crone demanded, staring down Cadmus with her glassy yellow eyes.

Decimus' mandibles tightened. "He is here at my request. A witness and an officer from C-Sec. He will present the evidence."

"Where's he from?"

Decimus rose to his full height. "Palaven."

"Thought so," the old female sniffed. "He looks like one. Pale and weak."

Cadmus clenched his jaw, but said nothing. He wouldn't bandy words with Decimus' decrepit mother, no matter what she said.

"He's different. He has his weaknesses, but he's proven he's worthy of respect."

Cadmus tried to keep astonishment off his face. Was Decimus truly defending him to his family? Did his chief just admit he actually respected him?

"I don't care who they are," Decimus' mother went on, stepping up to her son and scowling at him face to face. "This is a family matter. They shouldn't be here."

"This is _not_ a simple family intervention," Decimus disputed. "C-Sec has all the evidence on Aiolus. It must be represented here and it is not appropriate that I should be its only voice."

"Humph!" the old turian snorted, moving away from Decimus and taking up a stance behind the divan.

"I repeat, what is our role?" Decimus' older brother asked again, vexation lacing his tone.

"Aiolus _must_ confess. We will make sure he does so. My teammates will provide protection. _We_ will handle the interrogation."

"When does Aiolus arrive?" his mother asked. Decimus looked to Selyna.

"In approximately three hours," Selyna informed her boss.

"We will be ready," Decimus' mother ground out, leaving the divan and shuffling past Selyna and Cadmus as if they didn't exist.

* * *

Time passed painfully slow for Cadmus. He could practically touch the tension in the house. Besides the fact that the Mehrkuri family had learned all at once that Decimus was alive and Aiolus a criminal, they didn't seem to like strangers in their home. They went about their business without so much as a word to Cadmus or Selyna. Decimus had introduced his siblings to Selyna and Cadmus after his mother had departed the room—his elder brother, Vidori, was a basic training instructor. His sister three years his junior, Brigid, managed a mine nearby. His other sister, Cosima, lived with her husband in a city miles away. Her husband was currently "underground" Decimus informed them, which Cadmus took to mean something concerning mining. Each of Decimus' siblings had greeted Selyna and Cadmus with forced politeness and quickly departed, leaving Decimus to instruct his team regarding the event to come.

Cadmus had taken up a place in a corner of the living area, settling in a chair provided by Decimus. He'd been instructed to remain as inconspicuous as possible during the intervention. Cadmus had heard of family interventions before. For turians, the whole weight of family brought down on one's head forced most to change their errant ways. However, he'd never heard of a family coming together for the purpose of forcing a criminal confession. He wondered if such an act were common on Tridend. He certainly didn't think with all his observations that any family on Tridend would put up for a moment with any illegal shenanigans. Aiolus, he concluded, was in for one rough ride should he decide to hold out. Considering the pain he'd endured in the warehouse, Cadmus wasn't unhappy Aiolus would soon taste the sourness of being on the other side.

As he was thinking this thought, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw Decimus' mother had entered the room again. He sat up tall, nervous in her presence. Decimus hadn't revealed her name, warning Cadmus and Selyna that using her first name would be an unforgivable insult. He advised they call her simply "ma'am."

"Do you need something, ma'am?" Cadmus ventured.

"No," the old turian barked out, but she walked right up to Cadmus. "Stand with respect when you speak to me."

Cadmus stood, not wanting to antagonize her. He thought she might have fared better if he'd remained seated. Standing, he towered over the hunchbacked old female. She had to crane her neck to glare up at him.

"Did you do this? Is this _your_ fault?"

"Uh…" Cadmus failed to respond quickly, the question catching him off guard.

"You know my son went to Palaven, got involved with its riffraff?"

Cadmus felt his mandibles constrict in irritation. He worked to appear unaffected, forcing them to loosen. "I am aware he made the wrong kind of friends."

"_Palaven_ friends. Did you corrupt him further?"

"I. Did. Not," Cadmus stated, emphasizing each word.

"I suppose you had no direct influence," the mother continued. "Otherwise, Decimus wouldn't have brought you here. But I know the truth. Turians from Palaven hate us. They're miscreants, the whole lot of them."

"Seems to me," a welcome voice spoke into the room, "That turians from Tridend fair little better if your son is any example. Besides, Cadmus has never even meet Aiolus."

Cadmus' eyes moved over to Selyna, concerned how Decimus' mother would take her disrespectful statement. The female turian muttered under her breath. As she passed Selyna to leave the room, she flashed flaming eyes at her. "You're asari. What do _you _know about turians?" She stomped away.

Selyna crossed the room and plunked down onto the divan. "She's a hag," she declared casually. "Worse than my grandmother. Dad's mom."

"You should be careful what you say," Cadmus warned, sitting back down in the corner. "She is, after all, the chief's mother."

Selyna guffawed. "I'm sure he already knows his mother is a shrew. At least now we know why he's the way he is. Imagine being raised by _her_. Put a toe out of line and I bet she'd break it."

Cadmus couldn't help but smile at the statement. "You spend much time on Tuchanka?" he asked, shifting the conversation to lighter small talk, intrigued by the fact she knew her krogan grandmother.

"Not much," Selyna said, folding her hands in her lap. "Mom insisted on raising us on Thessia. But Nissa and I never fit in there. We were wild and aggressive, they said. Spent most of our maiden years gallivanting around the galaxy."

Cadmus had never asked how old Selyna or Nissa were. He could never tell at what stage an asari was and wondered if Selyna was nearing the Matron stage.

"I suppose when I marry Scraul, I'll get the opportunity to call Tuchanka home." She sat up abruptly, turning in fear to Cadmus. Cadmus realized she hadn't meant to divulge that last part.

"I won't tell anyone," Cadmus assured her. So she _was_ ready to settle down.

"Thanks," Selyna breathed. "Nissa's going to hate it when she finds out. And I haven't had the guts to tell Decimus I'm leaving yet."

"Do what you have to," Cadmus advised. "Get it over with."

"Yeah," Selyna mumbled, resting back against the divan. She had only moments to collect her thoughts when her omni-tool beeped. She flashed it on, then turned to Cadmus. "He's landing."

"Go tell the chief," Cadmus instructed. Selyna rose from the divan and quickly exited the room searching for Decimus. Cadmus' blood raced. The time had come for Aiolus to face his doom.

* * *

Cadmus sat in his corner, pistol drawn and at the ready. Although she couldn't be seen, he knew Selyna was only steps away from him to the side of the doorway on his right. Decimus didn't want Aiolus to know an asari was present, just in case he did have biotics with him. Decimus wanted the element of surprise on _his_ side.

The family was as ready as they could be concerning the circumstances. The divan had been pushed back and three other chairs joined it to create a circle. Decimus' two sisters had taken their place on the divan again, Cosima looking as if she might cry. Cadmus thought briefly how hard it must have been for her growing up in such an abrasive family with her softer spirit. One of the chairs in the circle was occupied by Decimus' mother who was throwing daggers with her eyes all around the room. Cadmus avoided her gaze, keeping his attention on the foyer where Decimus waited with his brother. Decimus' mood had deepened from his usual somber to a state of darkened gloom. To Cadmus, it seemed Decimus was preparing himself to face the worst experience of his life. For the first time, he felt a twinge of pity for his chief.

There was a knock at the door. All eyes turned to the foyer. As planned, Vidori stepped to the door to open it.

"Vidori," a voice greeted quietly. Cadmus breathed in slowly. That must be Aiolus. His voice sounded much like Decimus'. "Has his body arrived?"

"Yes," Vidori answered.

"I'm glad to be home," Aiolus said, stepping through the door. "Though the occasion isn't what I hoped."

Vidori shut the door and locked it. Aiolus had his back to the living area, his attention on his eldest brother.

"Do you feel any guilt for my death?" Decimus spoke loudly, positioning himself behind his younger brother.

Aiolus whipped around, the shock on his face almost humorous. His eyes were wide and his mandibles frozen. Cadmus identified the family resemblance easily. Aiolus had a thinner build than Decimus, but was still dark with the wide white tattoo down the center of his face. He was dressed in a red suit trimmed in gold, a fashion Cadmus associated with the upper echelon of Palaven.

"Decimus," Aiolus breathed out, his mandibles now flexing rapidly in and out fearfully. His eyes darted into the living area as he became aware that a posse had laid in wait for him. He turned to the door, but Vidori stood in his way.

"Sit," Decimus commanded, pointing into the living area.

Aiolus slowly moved passed his brothers, his yellow eyes blinking rapidly as he surveyed the living area and its setup. His gaze paused for a moment on Cadmus and more shock registered. _He knows who I am_, Cadmus realized. _Good_.

"Uh…What is…"

"Sit!" Vidori repeated Decimus' command. He pushed Aiolus in the back into the living area and towards the center of the circle created by the divan and chairs. A solitary chair had been placed in the middle, the chair of interrogation meant for Aiolus.

Aiolus sat down slowly, his chest rising and heaving briskly as his breathing reflected his fear. "Decimus, how did you…"

Vidori and Decimus had taken their places in the circle, Decimus directly in front of Aiolus. "You know why this is happening," Decimus spoke angrily. "You know I caught onto your schemes. _They_ now know as well. You've been a messenger, a collaborator, perhaps even a murderer for your 'friends.'"

"What? I…No…I…"

"You've shamed this family!" Decimus' mother shouted out, unable to keep her peace.

Aiolus swiveled in his seat towards her. "Mom. I…didn't."

"Don't lie!" Brigid demanded. "It shames you even more."

"It's not true!" Aiolus yelled back. "So I used a false name. That doesn't mean anything." Aiolus was looking at Decimus.

"Vakarian," Decimus called out to Cadmus. Cadmus stood, data pad in hand. He walked over to Decimus' chair. "Do you know him?" Decimus asked Aiolus. Aiolus shook his head, an obvious lie. "Your friends almost killed him." Aiolus said nothing, but Cadmus noticed him gulp. "Go ahead, Vakarian."

Cadmus cleared his throat and began to recite facts from his team's dossier on Aiolus. "Aiolus Mehrkuri, alias Rutilus Pericul. Evidence: Chart reveals deposits to Pericul's account in the same cities and places Mehrkuri visits. Evidence: Mehrkuri rented a room in Zakera in the name of Pericul. Evidence: Mehrkuri has associates arrested for the possession of various illegal drugs, most commonly Minagen X3. Evidence: Mehrkuri on surveillance walking down the hall to and subsequently leaving the Avriel Warehouse. Evidence: Video surveillance of Furin Par entering and being thrown out of Avriel Warehouse. Evidence: Video surveillance interrupted when Mehrkuri walked down the hall to Avriel Warehouse. Evidence: Video surveillance disturbed when Furin Par murdered at Fatum, Argentum. Evidence: Mehrkuri in Argentum at the time of Furin Par's death. Evidence: Furin Par sent to the Citadel by the Pavo Foundation. Evidence: Avriel Warehouse supported the Pavo Foundation. Evidence: Minagen X3 retrieved from Avriel Warehouse." Cadmus lowered his data pad and stared down at Aiolus. The turian was wringing his hands.

"None of it's true."

"Don't lie to us, Aiolus, please," Cosima begged, eyes wet with tears. "You've never lied to _me_. Don't do it now."

Aiolus glanced around the room again like a trapped animal searching for an escape. Finding none, he put a hand to his forehead, but only for a brief moment. Unexpectedly, an explosion of blue energy flowed outward from Aiolus as he leaped up from his chair. Everyone in the room fell back at the power of his biotic blast. Cadmus found himself kicked backwards over an end table knocking it and its contents to the floor with a clatter. He rose as fast as possible to see Aiolus had already made it to the front door and was fumbling with the lock. He aimed his pistol but before he had a chance to call out another blue wave appeared, this one pinning Aiolus to the door. Selyna had taken up position in the hallway, leaning forward, arms outstretched.

"He's a biotic," Decimus' sister, Brigid, breathed out.

"It's not possible!" Decimus' mother disputed.

Aiolus struggled against the door, finally managing to push back with his own biotic powers against Selyna. He threw his hands out and Selyna tumbled backwards, but to her credit never lost her balance. Aiolus made to rush her but before he reached her, she twirled to the side and sent another biotic surge towards him. He rose briefly in the air, then crashed to the floor flat on his back. Cadmus had made his way to Selyna's side, now aiming his pistol at Aiolus to halt his tirade. Selyna placed a foot forcefully onto Aiolus' chest, thrusting a hand of crackling biotic energy into his face.

"I've been honing my biotics for 370 years," she threatened. "You want to try me, bring it on."

Decimus, having recovered from Aiolus' biotic outburst, approached his brother and crouched down next to him. "Do you want to answer questions here or sit back in your chair?"

Aiolus cried out in fury and suddenly spat in Decimus' face, his innocent demeanor dropped entirely. Decimus swiftly backhanded his brother across the face. "What? You going to beat it out of me?" Aiolus snapped at Decimus.

"Depends," Decimus growled back. "Do you want me to treat you as a suspect or my brother?" Cadmus understood the implication. Decimus would never have struck a suspect on the Citadel. Such abuse could negate evidence against a criminal, letting him off the hook. However, Decimus had every right to strike an insolent brother and no turian would challenge that right.

"Sit back in the chair and I won't hit you again," Decimus warned, barely contained rage edging his tone.

"Alright!" Aiolus practically shouted, his frustration evident as he recognized his helpless position. He wouldn't be able to manage an escape from the house with such a crowd to stop him.

"Get him up!" Decimus commanded, "but hold him." Selyna removed her foot and Cadmus roughly pulled Aiolus to his feet, snarling in his throat as he did so. Decimus patted his brother about the chest and arms, searching for weapons. He pulled a knife and a pistol out of Aiolus' jacket. He also searched his pant legs and boots, removing another gun secured to Aiolus' left ankle. When he was assured his brother was unarmed, Decimus nodded at his brother's chair. Cadmus hauled Aiolus over and couldn't help but take pleasure in slamming the turian back into his seat. Aiolus now sat with his arms crossed, his posture straight and defiant.

"Who made you a biotic?" Cosima asked hesitantly.

Aiolus laughed bitterly. "No one made me one. I've always been one."

"But, no turian on Tridend has ever been biotic," Brigid stated in confusion.

"I am," Aiolus insisted. He looked over to his mother. "When were you exposed to eezo, mother?"

"Never," the old female claimed.

"You must have been. You should have told me."

Aiolus' mother's mandibles clacked loudly through the room. "And let them take you from us?"

"Life in a Cabal would have been better than this!" Aiolus shouted out, waving with his hand to encompass his family.

"You _knew_ he was biotic?" Cosima questioned her mother.

"I only suspected," her mother retorted. "His manifestations were weak."

"Not anymore," Vidori stated, staring dumbfounded at his youngest brother.

Aiolus grinned. "Minagen X3 does wonders."

"You can die from taking that stuff," Brigid said.

"I'm careful," Aiolus laughed.

"His biotic ability is inconsequential," Decimus spoke commandingly, taking charge of the intervention once again. "It changes nothing. _You_…" here Decimus pointed at Aiolus, "are going to write a full confession. Name names and places."

Aiolus groaned. "They told me not to come here. Told me it might be a trap. They were right. I didn't think family could turn on me like this."

"We're not turning on you," Cosima pleaded. "The only hope you have to save our family honor is your confession."

"Family honor?" Aiolus asked incredulously. "That's all that matters to you? My life means nothing."

"Your life is likewise at stake," Brigid explained. "You have committed murder."

Aiolus' mandibles fluttered angrily. "I _didn't_ do that."

"Prove it," Decimus challenged. "Defend yourself. Write out a confession now."

Aiolus snapped viciously at his brother. "You think they won't kill me in prison? You _know_ what they did to that volus!"

"Enough!" Decimus' mother rose, moving to stand in front of her youngest son. "_We_ honor our family. _We_ will not let them kill you. If you do not confess, I will call the Primarch and she will arrest you now without our protection. We will live as though you never existed. Your name will be expunged from our records. Do you understand?"

Aiolus' jaw tightened. Cadmus held his breath. It was a serious threat. Aiolus had two choices, capitulate and let his family aid him or go it alone. The correct choice was clear.

"Give me a data pad," Aiolus barked out.

Decimus handed him one and he began to tap his talon quickly over it. Cadmus sat back in his corner, pistol still at the ready. His stomach flipped uneasily as the tension released from his body. As the family waited for Aiolus to finish his confession, Cadmus found his eyes rooted on his chief. Decimus' shoulders had slumped downwards and his mandibles drooped. The tough turian he'd come to know had been replaced by an utterly broken one. Cadmus realized then how much this task had cost his boss. And he found himself suddenly thankful for his own family, even for the father who had ignored him. Being ignored was better than being a source of shame.

When Aiolus had finished, Decimus read the confession aloud. It completely exposed the Pavo Foundation as a front for drug running and detailed the modus operandi of the cartel. It sold nondescript products to buyers who knew the drugs were hidden within them. Furin Par had accidentally sold some of these products to the wrong buyers and had been tasked with reacquiring them. He'd done so sloppily, getting himself arrested in the process. The Cartel had foreseen this as a threat and ordered his elimination. The confession named the turian who had killed Furin Par along with the guard who had made the killing possible. It also contained a long list of names. It ended with a plea for mercy and protection.

When Decimus was satisfied that Aiolus had been truthful, he clapped bonds around Aiolus' wrists and ankles himself, then handed him over to Cadmus and Selyna who conducted the beaten turian to a family speeder. As they waited for Decimus to join them, Cadmus watched him bid farewell to his family. Although they said little, Cadmus sensed the sadness and distress eating away at them. It would take a long time for the Mehrkuri family to feel whole again.

Cadmus, Selyna and Decimus drove back to the ship in silence. Aiolus likewise said nothing, head bowed in defeat. When they arrived at their ship, Decimus and Cadmus saw to it that Aiolus was secured in a holding cell. Decimus turned from Aiolus then and beat a hasty retreat. Cadmus watched him go when Selyna's voice urged him from behind. "He needs someone now and it isn't me. As his mother says, I'm not turian." Cadmus sighed. Without looking back at Selyna, he quietly followed his chief. What could he say? He hardly knew Decimus. In fact, all he thought he knew had been turned on its head in the space of a week. Would Decimus even want him to intrude? Decimus soon halted at a window and peered out at his home planet. Cadmus paused, indecisive. He had finally decided to leave his chief in peace and turned to walk back down the hall when Decimus spoke.

"You think family can't disappoint you," he murmured. "You think they've been raised right and then they fail. My father would have killed him."

Cadmus didn't know if Decimus meant this figuratively or literally. He hoped figuratively. His son hadn't been born yet, but he couldn't imagine killing his own child even if he'd done the worst. "I'm…sorry," Cadmus spoke quietly. Even though his statement sounded strange to his ears in the presence of his chief, he found he genuinely felt sympathetic towards Decimus who at this moment was simply a fellow turian vulnerable and hurt.

Decimus turned from the window and fixed Cadmus with his penetrating gaze, his professional demeanor covering over the grief of the intervention. "Good work, Cadmus," he stated shortly, then strode swiftly back down the hall. Cadmus stared after him. He'd finally been called by his personal name. He'd earned Decimus' respect. And although this fact pleased him, it also grieved him. He hadn't thought Decimus' respect would come at the expense of his own brother.

Cadmus approached the window, surveying the brown scrub of Tridend as the ship's engines sprang to life, the floor under his feet shuddering slightly. As his mind played back the intervention and the pain of the Mehrkuri family, he made a silent vow to himself. He would raise his son right. _His_ son would exercise self-control and morality, become a paragon of virtue, a model of the perfect turian.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who is reading and following Cadmus' journey! I know this story arc has been a slow beginning, but I wanted to explore Cadmus' early C-Sec experience and how it influences his actions as a father. I'm excited to move into the next stage of Cadmus' life: being a parent to our favorite turian!


	11. Father

Cadmus looked up from his desk when his office door opened. Lately he'd had so many visitors, he had no clue who would be coming through his door. He was relieved to see it was only Paeon.

"Judgment's coming down," Paeon spoke quietly. "Should be announced live. Everyone's headed to the briefing room."

"Everyone?" Cadmus questioned, knowing the statement wasn't entirely true.

Paeon grimaced. "No, not everyone. Probably not the chief. We didn't even ask him to join us."

"I'll be there soon."

Paeon left as swiftly as he had come. Cadmus pushed back in his chair, his mind removed from the case he had been working on when Paeon entered. Almost seven months had passed since the drug cartel had been exposed. Turian space and especially Palaven had been shaken by it. It wasn't so much the drugs that caused the upset. Recreational drug use wasn't an issue for turians unless it kept them from their duties. The root of the furor came from the fact that the Pavo Foundation, an organization praised for its civic duty and commitment to the betterment of turian youth, had spit on turian ideals when it put its own desires ahead of its people. Selfish greed had fueled the Foundation and its illegal activities. Add to this that several other races in the galaxy blamed the Foundation's drug running for numerous deaths on at least forty other worlds, thus shaming turians intergalactially. Furin Par's death had quite a negative effect as well. Turians were repelled that a member of their client race had been killed to hide the sins of the Foundation. Investigation of the cartel had ranged from the Citadel to Palaven to several other turian colonies as turians everywhere called for its complete demise. Over the last few months, most of its participants had been tracked down and brought to justice. The Council had gotten involved as well when various races demanded the traffickers be handed over to them to face justice. Arguments ensued over where the offenders should be bound over for trial. Several ended up on the Citadel, especially those who had committed most of their crimes on the station. The majority, however, found themselves in turian courts of law, facing not so much drug trafficking accusations, but crimes against the turian state.

Cadmus took a long breath and rose from his chair, making his way to his door. His part in the case had changed his life on the Citadel. Once it had been revealed that Decimus Mehrkuri had not been killed, that he and his team had set up a sting to catch his own brother Aiolus and thus, the cartel, the station had exploded with admiration and inquiry. The praise initially went to Decimus, but when Decimus pulled back from the whole affair, deferring all questions to Detective Vakarian, Cadmus found the station lauding him. He became the face of the investigation and his popularity surged on the station. Rumor mutated the story, making him the main player in the events. Cadmus tried to set the record straight, but his attempts were viewed as typical turian humility which led the station to love him all the more. Cadmus mused as he stepped through his open door into the hallway how when he first arrived he would have coveted the praise of the station. Now, it hardly mattered to him. He didn't want to be the center of attention. He knew the truth—Decimus had done the work. He had just stumbled into the investigation. His only claim could be that he had been the impetus for action on Decimus' part. By getting himself and Kepel attacked and tortured, he'd opened the door for the discovery of solid evidence in the Avriel Warehouse. Even that, however, might not have been possible unless Decimus had come to his team members' rescue.

Cadmus stopped in front of the briefing room, glancing back down the hall at Decimus' door. He pitied his chief this day. Maybe he should invite the chief to join them? No. _If our places were reversed, I wouldn't want to be near anyone else._ Decimus needed to be alone today of all days. Cadmus entered the room. Everyone had gathered. He took a seat next to Paeon at the end of the table. The room was silent except for the televised feed from a court room on Tridend. Cadmus scanned the faces in the room. Paeon, as always compassionate, looked the most down of all. Nissa, next to Paeon, had a look of satisfactory vindication on her face. Selyna was, as always, in complete control of herself, not a hint to the emotions under the surface. Kepel was at the other end of the table. He glanced over at Cadmus and inclined his head. Cadmus read in his gesture more than a simple acknowledgement of his presence. In his nod was an understanding between himself and Cadmus. They alone of all had experienced the lengths the Pavo drug cartel would go to to protect their interests. For Kepel, today was the pinnacle of justice.

Cadmus turned his attention to the screen on the wall. The court room was a simple turian affair. The accused stood at attention at the front of the room, a place of scrutiny and shame, flanked by two armored turians Cadmus identified as biotics by the insignias on their right shoulders. His family, having chosen to support him, stood against the wall to his right. On the left were all the witnesses who had testified against him. Soon the Primarch would enter to pronounce judgment. Most turian judgments were not televised. However, if the offense affected enough of its population, the authorities would at times make the judgment public, both to disgrace the offender and to pronounce to its people the consequences of treachery. As the cartel had affected a large percentage of the galaxy, it was appropriate this judgment be seen by all. It was a way for turian space to proclaim to all races that it knew how to take care of business.

Cadmus considered the emotion of the accused. He seemed actually calm, little trepidation. Perhaps seven months had given Aiolus Mehrkuri time to accept his fate. In point of fact, turian justice usually ran on a swifter time frame. However, the extent and damage of the cartel had resulted in investigations that took months. That, and Aiolus had been a source of information. Most of the cartel had been sentenced by this time. Punishments ranged from time in labor camps for lesser offenders on Palaven, life in prison for those sentenced on the Citadel and execution on Palaven for the leaders of the organization and those that had participated in killings. Aiolus was almost the last of a long string of sentencings. His extradition had actually been a point of contention for the Council. Tridend's Primarch demanded her people be allowed to carry out his sentence. Executor Clineas argued that as Aiolus was former C-Sec and most of his criminal acts had occurred on station, his trial should take place on the station under Citadel law. The turian councilor was caught between supporting the Citadel or a turian colony. Days of discussion had taken place behind closed doors. Eventually Aiolus was released to Tridend authorities with the stipulation that his cooperation with the investigation into the cartel _had_ to be taken into consideration and he could not be executed.

Cadmus shifted his gaze to the left on the screen, reading the faces of Aiolus' family. Everyone from the intervention was there save Decimus. Most of them were stoic, except Decimus' mother whose eyes burned as usual and Cosima, the soft hearted sister clearly distraught. Cadmus wondered what they thought of Decimus' absence. Truly, Decimus could have been on either side of the court room. He had testified against his brother, presenting all the evidence his team had gathered. He could have chosen to stand as either witness or family. Instead, he had left immediately after his testimony, returning to the Citadel. He'd kept to himself since then. None of his team had wanted to trespass on his solitude for fear of repercussions. Cadmus saw his chief only when he wanted to discuss a case and then, Decimus was entirely professional in his demeanor. He spoke not a word about the intervention or the trial on his home planet.

There was some movement on the screen and Cadmus saw that the Primarch had appeared. She carried herself with the weight of authority. She wore full black armor and sheathed on her back was a three foot pike. Cadmus, having studied up on Tridend after his excursion there, knew that this weapon hailed back to Tridend's earlier days when they tamed the wild planet. It was symbolic of her right to rule. She, just like Decimus, was dark in complexion. Her white tattoos, however, were intricate and complex. She walked within a few feet of Aiolus and paused. She then turned her back to him and her voice rang out strong, deep and clear.

"Aiolus Mehrkuri stands condemned for dishonorable actions against his own people, for putting self above others, the lust of desire before duty. He also stands culpable in acts of sedition, murder, drug trafficking and deception towards the wider galaxy. He has sullied the name of Tridend and we will be avenged."

Cadmus swallowed. No turian would ever want such a speech uttered concerning him. He looked at his fellow teammates around the table and caught Paeon's eye. Only Paeon could understand how deep such words wounded a turian. In effect, Aiolus had been disowned by his home planet, by turians throughout the galaxy. He was lucky his family had chosen to stand by him at all. They didn't have to be in the court room. But Cadmus had learned on Tridend that the Mehrkuri clan was deeply loyal. They had walked with Aiolus through the trial and Cadmus assumed, had negotiated some kind of protection when his sentence was carried out. Still, what came next must have wounded Aiolus still farther, though to his credit, he showed not a drop of emotion.

The Primarch motioned for Aiolus' mother to approach. Together they advanced on Aiolus who continued to look straight ahead, not a hint of movement in even his eyes. The Primarch and the head of the Mehrkuri household together ripped off Aiolus' C-Sec insignia from his right shoulder. Ironically, Cadmus knew the insignia had been fastened to his suit this day for this purpose alone. It was a symbolic act of dishonor. The Primarch then handed Aiolus' mother another insignia which she fastened in place of the one that had been removed. This insignia designated Aiolus a convicted criminal on Tridend. It looked like a hammer hitting a rock and foretold Aiolus' ultimate destination. This act was meant to humiliate Aiolus as his own family took part in condemning him. Aiolus' mother moved back to her other children, her face gloomy and angry.

The Primarch turned to speak to the spectators again. "For his crimes against the state, for his crimes against the galaxy, for his dishonor, Aiolus Mehrkuri is sentenced to forty years hard labor to be carried out forthwith in Zafur Halesia."

Cadmus heard the sharp intact of breath from Paeon. From his research he knew this Zafur Halesia was a penal mine known for its brutality. Most prisoners who went in never came back out. Aiolus hadn't been executed, but his people had dealt with him as harshly as possible, effectively sentencing him to the worst punishment they could deal out. Tridend turians had little place in their hearts for forgiveness.

The screen went blank. The judgment had been short and to the point, thoroughly turian. The teammates sat in silence for a while, then Nissa stood first, slapping a hand on the table. "He deserved it," she grumbled as she exited swiftly. Cadmus knew his teammates intimately now and understood that Nissa's declaration was to cover her pain. She probably did think Aiolus deserved punishment, but clearly not so much. He could understand. She'd just seen a former boyfriend sent to his death. Selyna rose and left next without a word, most likely going to comfort her sister. Paeon sighed and stood. "I _should_ feel a sense of justice and vindication," he said quietly as he likewise left to consider the sentencing of a former teammate. Cadmus looked across the table at the last team member left, Kepel.

"And what do you think?" Kepel asked in his staccato.

Cadmus took a moment to reflect. He had never personally known Aiolus. He didn't have any feeling of sympathy based on personal feelings. His feelings were nothing but generally turian. "It was what needed to be done," he finally said. "They dealt with him as their law demanded."

Kepel reached up to rub his right horn. "Indeed." He then stood.

"What about you?" Cadmus asked, wanting to hear his fellow sufferer's own conclusion.

"I think," Kepel spoke matter-of-factly, "That I should stifle my happiness." He walked to the door and exited. Cadmus watched the door close. Kepel had changed ever since his experience. He'd become more isolated and content to stay in his office, refusing to do any kind of work in the field. The only one on the team he ever talked to in any kind of personal terms was Cadmus himself. Their shared experience had produced a bond only they could understand. Cadmus sympathized with Kepel's feelings.

Cadmus left the room alone. No one lingered in the hallway. He had work to do. Now that the drug case had been concluded, other cases had come in. Decimus had seen fit to throw several challenging cases his way, one murder even. For Cadmus, this was the most positive outcome of the whole nasty business. He at least had won the respect and honor of his boss.

As he passed Decimus' office, Cadmus ran an eye over the door, wondering if Decimus had even watched Aiolus' sentencing from his office. He approached his own door, but when it opened he pulled up short. Decimus Mehrkuri sat in the chair next to his desk.

"Sir?" he asked, stepping tentatively into the room so the door could close and afford them some privacy.

"No need to stand. Have a seat."

Cadmus sat down behind his desk, staring across at his chief. Ever since the mission to Tridend, things had been different between them. They still weren't chums in any sense of the word, but there was mutual respect. Decimus had taken to asking Cadmus' thoughts on various cases, including him in the evaluation of evidence. He'd only ventured to explain the change once saying to Cadmus, "I'm going to make you a better cop. No, the _best_." In effect, Decimus had taken Cadmus under his wing. Cadmus had submitted to this change. He'd learned his limitations in the Pavo incident. He realized how little he understood of the Citadel, how much he had to learn. For him, Decimus had become a mentor, a cop who could mold him to perfection in his chosen career.

Decimus paused for quite a long time. Cadmus didn't know what to say. Finally, he formulated simple words. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Decimus snorted. "Don't be. It's what I expected."

Cadmus took a breath as Decimus offered no other explanation for his presence. "Then, do you need help with a case?"

Decimus looked over to Cadmus, his yellow eyes tired. "I _do_ have something to discuss with you, but it's not a case."

"What is it?"

Decimus flashed on his omni-tool. "They want to take you off my team."

Cadmus felt his heart skip a beat. What? Had his naïveté at the Avriel Warehouse come back to bite him?

"Don't look so worried," Decimus commanded. "You're not being punished. You're being rewarded."

Cadmus cocked his head. "Sir?"

"This case has shaken the Council to its core. They pride themselves on a station run by supreme order and morality. _You_ represent that to them."

Cadmus twitched his mandibles. He didn't think himself worthy of such representation, though he would have been lying to say he wasn't pleased by the designation.

"In a few months there will be an opening for an investigator in one of Zakera Ward's precincts. They want you to fill the post."

Cadmus felt shock register on his face. The best were assigned to Zakera. It was what he'd wanted when he first applied to C-Sec—challenges befitting his skills. The problem was he'd learned he wasn't as skilled as he'd originally thought. He wasn't worthy of this honor. As he looked at his chief, he also realized he wasn't the one who should have been asked.

"Can I refuse?" he asked quietly.

Decimus' mandibles moved quickly in and out in surprise. "Why would you?"

Cadmus lowered his gaze. "They should have asked you."

A rumbling came from deep in Decimus' chest. Cadmus looked up, expecting anger, but finding instead that the rumble became a tremendous baritone laugh filling the room. Cadmus watched amused as Decimus laughed heartily and eventually managed to control himself. It was the first time he'd ever seen the chief laugh so openly. "You think they want _me_?" he asked incredulously. "First, there's my disability. They know that this leg," he patted his right thigh, "gives me more trouble than I care to admit. I'm best behind a desk. Second, you don't know Clineas like I do. He would never hand Zakera back over to me. He's angry I didn't tell him about Aiolus when I first suspected. Never mind the old codger hasn't been down in the wards for forty years. If I'd gone to him, he'd have ordered immediate strikes and they'd have been underground in a day." Decimus smiled. "Third, I have my sights set on another position. I don't want Zakera."

Cadmus sat back in his chair. Was he ready to handle a tougher ward? He'd just come to appreciate his current team. He relied on their expertise. Not that Zakera wouldn't have good cops, but he'd have to start over from scratch. That, and he'd lose his opportunity to learn from Decimus Mehrkuri whose rough edges only hid the fact he was the best detective Cadmus had ever had the opportunity to work under.

Decimus stood, peering down at Cadmus. "At least they chose someone from my team. Says something about me, doesn't it? Just think it over, Cadmus. They'll want to know by the end of the week." He turned and retreated from the room with his heavy limping gait, leaving Cadmus deep in contemplation.

* * *

The evening found Cadmus alone in his vast apartment. He changed into leisure clothes, cooked himself a simple dinner and ate silently in the kitchen, still thinking over the offer. After dinner, he lay back on the couch in the living room. He hated nights now. With Laelia still in seclusion on Palaven, he'd found the isolation he'd previously coveted before marriage felt empty now when she was gone. _You'll have to get used to it_, he lectured himself.

Truth was, he'd determined months ago that Laelia would never be coming back to live on the Citadel. He hadn't yet told her. He couldn't bring himself to burden her when she still struggled through a rough pregnancy. He'd seen her only once in the last few months. At the time, he hadn't wanted to disturb their precious time together with an argument he knew would ensue. When she inquired about coming back, he put her off, stating that the Pavo case hadn't come to a conclusion yet and her safety couldn't be assured. He knew she was eager to get away from her parents. Being pregnant, they'd practically stifled her with advice and chastisement when she disagreed with their ideas. She wanted to raise their son _her_ way, not theirs. But being the good turian daughter she was, she asserted so gently. Cadmus also knew his own mother had taken to visiting her as well. Laelia was being henpecked on every side.

Cadmus looked over at the screen on the wall. He was supposed to have called her already. They talked on a regular schedule, Cadmus getting the lowdown on the pregnancy. Tonight, he felt more reluctant to make the call. Seeing Aiolus again had brought the particulars of his decision back to mind. In the months after the mission to Tridend, Cadmus had thought more than ever about what he desired out of a son. He'd never thought about children until marrying Laelia, but now that a child was imminent, he needed to plan for his son's development. Being a parent was a serious job. What he knew he _didn't_ want was an Aiolus Mehrkuri. How could he prevent that from happening? He realized immediately that his son couldn't be raised on the Citadel. His son needed to be surrounded by turians worthy of emulation. He needed to grow up on Palaven in Cadmus' circle of influence with Cadmus' friends. He'd also receive the best training and education that wealth provided.

Cadmus felt conflict rise within him. He wanted to train his son himself, day in and out. But it wouldn't be possible. He knew Paeon made do working on the Citadel away from his family as did the majority of turians in C-Sec. They often went home at regular intervals however. _Maybe I can make a deal with Clineas_, Cadmus mused, hoping the Executor might trade his acceptance of a post in Zakera with the consent to give him extended periods of leave at home.

Cadmus stood and strode over to the screen on the wall, pressing its panel. After a few seconds, Laelia's face appeared. "I thought you might not call."

"I didn't mean to worry you," Cadmus apologized.

"I wasn't worried. I just like seeing you."

"Let _me_ see _you_."

Laelia smiled and stepped back. She wore a flowing turquoise gown, her hands on her bulging abdomen.

"How is he?"

"Well as always. I may suffer, but he never has. He's going to be strong, Cadmus, just like you."

Cadmus smiled as well, proud of his yet to be born offspring. "Have you conceded to name him Garrus yet?"

Laelia's mandibles flared momentarily in mock offense. "It's old."

"But strong."

"Yes, I know. I don't hate it. I just…I don't know."

"Do you have another suggestion?"

Laelia sighed, moving back to towards the camera so her head filled the screen. "Not yet. Everything else I think of sounds silly."

"So give in."

Laelia batted her eyes at Cadmus. "We'll see." Her good humor faded, her eyes becoming serious. "I saw Mehrkuri's sentencing today."

Cadmus took a breath. "Yes."

"He's the last, correct?"

"Effectively."

"I'm ready to come back to you."

Cadmus shifted slightly. "I think it best you deliver on Palaven."

"Dr. Lisan…"

"Is capable," Cadmus interrupted. "But your doctors on Palaven know turians best. They know _you_ best. They've been monitoring you for most of your pregnancy."

"That's true," Laelia conceded, her face falling.

"I've secured a month of leave. I _will_ be there for his birth."

"I know. It can't come soon enough."

Cadmus wanted to tell her about the Zakera offer, but he couldn't, not yet. He didn't want her to think his ambition was his reason for keeping them apart. He'd have to tell her his decision that she stay on Palaven, but not tonight. "I need to get some sleep."

"Alright. Greet Viator and Paeon for me."

"I will."

The screen faded to black. Cadmus walked into his bedroom and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to spend most of his days without his wife, but it was necessary. Turians were bound to duty. He'd chosen to make his career the Citadel and he wouldn't quit now. He wouldn't be an example to his son of giving up. But he also wouldn't sacrifice his son's turian upbringing.

* * *

_Three Months Later_

Cadmus sat up in his seat, leaning towards the window now filled with the glories of Palaven. It was a breath of fresh air to behold the orb swirling with silver, blue and green. As much as he enjoyed his job, he still missed home. The artificial Citadel couldn't compare to the natural beauty of his home planet. As the ship drew closer, coming in for a landing, Cadmus anticipated events soon to unfold. Laelia was due in a week. As a precaution, she was already in hospital in Cipritine. She'd had some bleeding in the last week and the doctors wanted to keep her close. Usually turian females gave birth at home, but considering Laelia's medical issues, the doctors thought it best to keep her in hospital in case emergency measures would need to be taken during the birth.

The ship landed with a mild lift and fall. Cadmus waited for other passengers to disembark. His mother had offered to send the family ship for him, but Cadmus declined. He could travel with the masses as well as anyone. When the ship was clear, he stood, grabbed his small bag and exited down the landing ramp. To his surprise, his mother stood only a few feet away waiting for him. He hadn't expected anyone to meet him. His father and brother were on duty somewhere out in the galaxy, his sister on a dig on another colony. Only his mother was planetside. He'd told her he intended to make his way to the hospital immediately and didn't need any help getting there.

"Cadmus," his mother greeted, holding out her hand to him. He took it and bowed his head to her. She was looking the same as always—dressed in the latest fashions and flashing her stately beauty. She let go of his hand and passed a critical eye over him. "You don't look like a Vakarian," she complained.

Cadmus sighed inwardly. His mother had always cared about appearances. She expected him to reflect family status in his choice of clothing. He, however, had worn a simple pant and shirt set, his C-Sec off duty clothes that were simple and straightforward. "I don't need to look like a Vakarian," he answered respectfully. "If it's good enough for C-Sec, it's good enough for me."

"I suppose," his mother muttered under her breath.

"I didn't expect you to meet me."

"Laelia's in labor." His mother spoke matter-of-factly, but the statement put Cadmus immediately on edge.

"And…"

"She's been in labor since last night. It's slow going."

"Take me to the hospital."

"Our speeder is waiting."

Cadmus followed his mother to their private speeder, sliding in next to her and nodding to the chauffer, a now elderly civil servant who had been in their employ for years. As they traveled, his mother attempted small talk, inquiring into his current position at C-Sec. He informed her that he'd accepted a new position in Zakera Ward. He'd only briefly met the team. He wouldn't take up the new post until he returned to the Citadel after his leave. Actually, Zakera was in a bit of an upheaval. Besides himself, two other team members would also be new. He was glad he wouldn't be the only one having to catch up in the precinct. He partially regretted leaving Bachjret, but he didn't tell his mother. He had developed a strong loyalty to Decimus. However, his chief had pushed him to accept, saying cryptically, "You'll be the eyes and ears I need down there." What that meant, Decimus hadn't elaborated on. Selyna had left the team, and C-Sec, only a few weeks after Aiolus' sentencing, announcing the date of her wedding to Scraul. That put Nissa in an even fouler mood than she'd been in over Selyna's engagement. She clearly felt abandoned by her sister. Of all of them, Cadmus would miss Paeon and Kepel the most. He knew he would still see them around the station, but it wouldn't be the same not working together.

After he explained his work on the Citadel, his mother grumbled over the Pavo Foundation's offenses and the shock that had radiated over Palaven concerning it. She did, however, feel things were calming down and getting back to normal. She almost seemed annoyed at Cadmus, as if he'd caused the whole problem to begin with. But Cadmus knew his mother's way was to give praise through criticism. In complaining, she was actually revealing her pride in his accomplishments.

When they reached the hospital, Cadmus exited the vehicle, bag in hand. For all he knew, he'd be at the hospital for days. He followed his mother through the door and into one of the hospital wings. After a time, she passed into a room containing two single beds, a couple chairs and a table. "I'll get an update," she said, leaving Cadmus to settle on his own.

Cadmus set his bag down on the table and scanned the room. Turian fathers rarely attended the birth of their children. Birth, it was said, was sacred to a female and not be disturbed by male eyes. He wouldn't see Laelia until his son had emerged into the world. He paced the room, wishing he'd seen her before the labor began. He would have been able to give her some encouragement. Eventually his mother returned. He looked to her eagerly.

"Things are looking up. She may deliver by the end of the night."

Cadmus' mandibles twitched in anticipation.

"Her parents are here," his mother ground out.

"Problems?" he inquired.

She sighed. "Her mother is with her. Her father keeps showing up every moment he has a chance. It's like he's never known turian females gave birth before!"

Cadmus stifled his chuckle. Trouble among the in-laws. They'd worked so hard to marry off their children to the right spouse they hadn't even considered each other. "He only cares about her."

"_Your _father was never like that. Calm as a rithan," his mother claimed, referring to the lazy water fish of the Saluntine River.

Cadmus moved across the room and lay back on one of the beds. "It was a long trip from the Citadel."

"Sleep then. I'll come get you if there's anything pressing." His mother bowed out of the room.

Cadmus closed his eyes, trying to relax his agitated stomach. No reason to get worked up. He might as well get the sleep he'd need before his child arrived. He'd heard stories of the long nights new parents faced and he wanted to be ready.

* * *

As much as he tried to sleep, slumber eluded Cadmus. His worry over Laelia kept intruding into his dreams. What made this worse was that he usually didn't dream at all. He finally pulled out his data pad, endeavoring to read a book recommended to him by Decimus: _Citadel Security and the Formation of Citadel Law_. He liked it, it was informative, but he kept having to read sentences over when his thoughts strayed. He wasn't a turian content to sit by and do nothing when events of critical importance were taking place. He'd about driven himself crazy with impatience when the door opened and a welcome figure entered the room.

"First time father and you're sitting there reading a data pad?"

Cadmus stood and laughed, walking over and exchanging wrist grips with his friend Arsenius Fedorian, glad for the distraction. "How are you?"

"Who cares about me?" Arsenius replied. "You're the one about to change your life."

"I haven't seen you in over a year," Cadmus protested.

"Fine, fine. All is well. Thelie's still obsessing over an orderly household. The twins are bent on destroying every inch of our home and Gyia follows behind them, copying their boisterous ways."

Cadmus smiled. Arsenius' household was often full of chaos what with his three year old twin sons and two year old daughter.

"And you?" Arsenius returned. "Besides cleansing the galaxy of turian drug running filth, how are you?"

Cadmus gestured to a chair in the room and Arsenius sat while he moved back over to rest on the bed. "I'm transferring to Zakera Ward."

"Ah…That's good, correct?"

Cadmus nodded. "Very good."

"I guess your investigation into the Pavo Foundation got their attention."

Cadmus inclined his head, forgoing explaining that he didn't feel he entirely deserved the honor. "What about your career?" he questioned, shifting the focus away from himself.

"I shouldn't brag," Arsenius insisted, but his eyes twinkled.

"How many promotions in the last few months?" Cadmus asked, fully aware of his friend's penchant for excellence.

"Three."

"Three?"

"Don't embarrass me," Arsenius protested good-naturedly. Cadmus gazed at his friend. Arsenius had always been the most capable of his fellows in training. He was a natural born solider. Cadmus had no doubt he'd make Primarch some day. "Enough about me. How are you? Ready for fatherhood?"

Cadmus eyed his friend with the hint of a smile. "About as ready as I was for marriage."

Arsenius laughed. "That turned out fine, did it not? This will, too. Your wife will do most of the work anyway, especially when he's young."

That was one consolation. Cadmus had full faith in Laelia. She'd thought about children her whole life. He had no doubt she'd excel as a mother. "Fathers are still responsible for their sons."

"Of course," Arsenius consented. "Don't worry. You're perfect, Cadmus. How could your son help but not learn to be like you?"

Cadmus bowed his head at the complement. He _did_ want his son to be like him, but he knew he wasn't perfect. He wanted his son to be like him…_Minus my mistakes_.

"Try not to worry," Arsenius encouraged.

"I don't do waiting very well," Cadmus complained. "I can't manage to do anything right now."

Arsenius stood suddenly. "How about combat?"

Cadmus looked up at him. "Now?"

"They've got a training room here, for staff and guests. Or maybe you don't think you can take me anymore. You spend most of your days behind a desk after all."

Cadmus stood, riled by Arsenius' goading. "Let's go."

Arsenius grinned, gesturing towards the door and following Cadmus out into the hallway.

* * *

Cadmus stood at one end of a mat facing his old friend. They hadn't fought each other in hand to hand combat in almost ten years. At the time, Arsenius usually wiped the floor with any challenger. If anyone could possibly take him on, it had been Cadmus. Their matches had often ended in a draw.

Arsenius as the challenger began the match calling out "Prim!" Cadmus crouched down immediately, ready for Arsenius' typical charge. His friend did charge and Cadmus met him head on, gripping him around the forearms and using brute strength to push back his momentum. Arsenius stumbled, but twisted out of Cadmus' grip. He swung a foot up into Cadmus' stomach. Cadmus sucked in a breath, but was undaunted. He fought the urge to double over and instead sent a swift punch to the side of Arsenius' cheek. Arsenius bounced back on the balls of his feet, the punch missing by centimeters. He charged Cadmus again and this time, Cadmus shoved an elbow out at his friend, catching him in the chest. Arsenius wasn't fazed; he gripped Cadmus by the shoulders and shoved him backwards. Cadmus stalled, working to maintain his balance. Arsenius thrust his palm towards Cadmus' chest, attempting to knock him down, but before the hit could land, Cadmus caught his balance and flew into Arsenius, gripping him around the waist and heaving upwards, lifting his friend momentarily off his feet. He was about to throw him down when a sharp cry split the air.

"_What_ are you doing?"

Cadmus turned his head and let Arsenius drop at the same moment. Arsenius caught his balance as he fell, turning his own face to the intruder. Cadmus' mother stood with her hands in the air, her mandibles flared outwards.

Cadmus breathed heavily. "I needed…something…to do."

"So you choose a child's game?"

"We still…have combat in the infantry," Arsenius explained, catching his breath as well.

"This _isn't_ the infantry," Cadmus' mother argued. "At a time like this, you shouldn't be playing. And besides, Cadmus, your form was atrocious."

Cadmus laughed inwardly. She was pleased with him. She'd been the first one to instruct him in the combat arts.

"What do you…need, mother?" he asked, pausing to take a long breath.

"The doctor wants you."

Cadmus paced slowly over to his mother. "Why?"

"How should I know?" His mother glared at Arsenius. "_You_ can wait if you like."

Arsenius shook his head. "I only had a small break. I need to get back." He smiled at Cadmus. "I'll come by to see the new Vakarian when I can."

Cadmus nodded. "Thanks."

"Any time," Arsenius returned, slowly departing out the training room door.

* * *

Cadmus followed his mother back towards his room, but was met by the doctor before they reached it.

"Cadmus Vakarian?" the turian doctor asked, her voice taut.

"Yes?"

"I need you to come with me."

Cadmus, aware of the urgency in her voice, felt his blood race. "Is something wrong?"

"Come," the doctor replied shortly.

"Go," Cadmus mother insisted, pushing him in the back. "I'll wait here."

Cadmus followed the doctor down the hall and into the delivery rooms. He stared around curiously. He'd never seen them before. Windows allowed him small glimpses, but even then the turian females were covered from prying eyes by screens around their beds. They left the rooms and moved through another hall. The doctor indicated a door and Cadmus stepped through. He found a nurse in the room leaning over a small clear container with a light over it. A loud screeching cry filled the room.

"This is your son," the doctor announced.

Cadmus walked slowly up to the container and peered in. A rather lanky infant was throwing out his arms and kicking his legs. His eyes were shut tight and his mouth open in a loud wail. Cadmus just stared, his mind abruptly devoid of thought.

"Your son is fine. We'd like you to stay with him. Your wife, however, is in danger."

Cadmus looked over at the doctor. "What's wrong?"

"We haven't been able to stem her bleeding. I must return to her." The doctor exited quickly, leaving Cadmus in a stupor, worried over his wife and stymied by the squalling infant he'd just met for the first time. He didn't know what to do. Should he hold the cantankerous little fellow or leave him alone?

"He won't bite you," the nurse assured him, a hint of humor in her voice.

Cadmus didn't reply, but reached a hand down towards the infant, skimming the talon tips on his son's right hand. With abrupt force, the infant gripped his left talon. The moment he did so, his crying descended into a plaintive mewling. His eyes opened. Cadmus gazed into their gray-blue depths assaulted by sudden fear. Who was he to think he could be a father? He knew nothing about children. If Laelia died, he'd have no hope. The peaceful moment passed and his son cried out again, even stronger.

"He's hungry," the nurse commented, handing Cadmus a slender tube. Cadmus glanced down, recognizing the nutritive paste. He popped its lid, then leaned over the container and squeezed the tube towards his son's mouth. The infant jerked smearing a bit of the paste on his upper lip.

"Uh…"

"It will be easier if you hold him," the nurse suggested.

Cadmus momentarily dropped the tube in the container, then carefully picked up the wiggling infant.

"Place him in the crook of your arm," the nurse instructed, pointing at the inside of her own elbow joint.

Cadmus did as she directed. He stuck the tube into the infant's mouth. His mouth closed immediately, his crying ceasing as Cadmus pushed the paste out. His son smacked loudly, ingesting the paste at a hurried pace.

The nurse made to leave the room and Cadmus stammered in a panic. "Um…Uh…"

"You'll be fine," the nurse assured. "Feed him, then put him back in the crèche." She left the room.

As the infant downed the rest of the paste, Cadmus contemplated his son's small body nestled against his large forearm. Cadmus knew all turians had been infants at one time. He'd just never thought about infants _ever_ in his life. And yet, he felt a sudden pride growing inside his heart. His son produced in him a joy he hadn't even known he lacked.

* * *

The doctor returned half an hour later. Cadmus spent the time alternating between feeding his son when he cried and placing him back into the crèche to warm under the light. In that time he'd marveled over the infant's vulnerable state. His plates were soft to the touch. They wouldn't harden for a couple years. Cadmus' initial pride had morphed into a strong desire to protect the child now sleeping soundly in the crèche. Cadmus well knew from recent experiences how treacherous the galaxy could be. His son would have to be prepared for all eventualities. But for the moment, he couldn't protect himself from anything. Cadmus and Laelia would be his protectors…_if_ Laelia lived. Cadmus' mind flitted back to Laelia as the doctor entered the room. He held his breath and steeled his mind for the worst.

"Your wife is recovering. She wants to see her child."

Cadmus breathed out with relief. "Where is she?"

"Down the hall. I'd have taken her to your room, but I think you'll want some time alone before the storm." Cadmus tilted his head and the doctor grinned. "I have parents and in-laws, too." Cadmus smiled back, grateful for the doctor's sympathy. He picked his son up from the crèche, being careful not to jostle him too much and wake him, though, considering the amount of paste he'd consumed in the last thirty minutes, he'd probably sleep for hours. He followed the doctor down the hall to a door. The doctor left him to enter alone. Cadmus gingerly stepped through the door.

Laelia sat propped up from behind by a pillow wedge, her eyes wide and slightly glassy. "Cadmus! Is that him?"

"It's our son." He walked over to her bed and placed the infant in her waiting arms.

Laelia tenderly ran a hand over the infant's soft crest. "He's perfect."

"Yes. How are you?" Concern filled Cadmus' voice.

"I don't hurt. I was unconscious when he was born. Too much blood, they said. I had a transfusion." She paused when the infant stirred, a rasping breathing coming from deep within his throat. For a moment, Cadmus thought he might wake, but he settled back down contentedly.

As Cadmus gazed on his wife and son, he wondered how he had been so lucky. He hadn't sought marriage or fatherhood, yet each had found him. Now, he couldn't imagine ever living without either. "Does he have a name?"

Laelia didn't look up, her hand brushing the infant's cheek. She giggled. "Now that I look at him, only Garrus seems to fit."

Cadmus chuckled softly. "Good." He reached down and put his hand on the infant's head. "Garrus Vakarian," he stated, trying the name on for size.

Laelia smiled up at Cadmus, then looked back down at their son. She cupped his tiny hand in hers and whispered, "Welcome home, Garrus Vakarian."


	12. Changes

Cadmus stretched his arms out and yawned. He'd risen early. His flight back to the Citadel would be leaving in less than two hours, taking him away from home and back to duty. At the moment, he wasn't unhappy about this fact. He wanted to be where he knew what to do and how to do it. It wasn't that his trip home had been all bad. He'd enjoyed observing Laelia at her happiest as she fretted over her new baby. She'd slid easily into her new role as a mother. But Cadmus had to admit, for his part, he'd found the last month daunting. Garrus was a colicky infant, crying often and continually hungry. Cadmus felt overwhelmed and under prepared. Laelia, on the other hand, had taken all the trouble in stride, walking with Garrus when he fussed, bouncing him to sleep and telling Cadmus over and over that he would have to be patient and new babies were often like this. She assured him that he'd find his son more fun once he'd grown a few years.

Cadmus sighed as he leaned against the wall in Garrus' nursery decked out in silver. He hadn't the first clue how to be a father to an infant. How did you connect with something that just cried and ate and pooped? He _did_ care about Garrus. He'd already arranged for Arsenius to come by and check in on his wife and son regularly. He just hadn't bonded with Garrus like Laelia had. He hoped Laelia was right, that things would get easier the more Garrus grew. What Cadmus wanted to do more than anything was teach his son to shoot, to fight, to be a turian of high character, but that would come later. Right now he would have to practice patience and wait.

Garrus stirred in his crèche. Cadmus had spent the last ten minutes staring at his son, watching him sleep from across the room. Arsenius had declared Garrus looked like him. He wasn't sure. It was hard to see a resemblance to either himself or Laelia in such a small face. He approached the crèche and peeked in. He expected the infant to see him and immediately wail, his usual response upon waking. But he was pleasantly surprised when Garrus simply blinked and opened his mouth wide, then snapped it closed. To Cadmus, it almost seemed his son was trying to tell him something, but, of course, it was way too early for any meaningful communication. Cadmus reached into the crèche and placed a talon in Garrus' hand, appreciating his son's strong grip. Some day, Cadmus thought, those hands would be skilled, the root of fatherly pride.

"At least you'll miss him," a soft voice came from behind.

Cadmus swung his head around. Laelia stood in the doorway, her face downcast. "I will miss you _both_."

Laelia's mandibles twitched quickly and she sighed. "I shouldn't have said it that way."

Cadmus slipped his talon out of Garrus' hand and moved to Laelia, placing a tender hand on her shoulder. "You haven't slept much this past month. I understand."

Laelia responded by resting both her hands on Cadmus' shoulders. "Please change your mind."

Cadmus dipped his head. "You know when I make a decision, it's final."

Laelia stepped away from Cadmus and moved to the crèche, picking Garrus up and snuggling him to her chest. "What I hate about your decisions is they're usually right." Cadmus heard the disappointed pout in her voice. "He _should_ be raised here, with his own race to teach him our ways. But…"

Cadmus prompted her. "But…"

"But it doesn't change my feelings."

"I can't change them either."

"I know." Laelia walked back to Cadmus and looked up into his face. "I don't want to take you away from your career. It's all too clear you were meant to serve the Citadel. I just want Garrus to know his father like I do."

"I'll be here on a regular schedule," Cadmus reminded her. "Executor Clineas already agreed."

"Three months there, one month here. I already feel lonely."

Cadmus reached out and drew Laelia into him, Garrus between them. "The only reason I can go back is because Garrus is in the capable hands of the most exceptional mother in all of Palaven. He will be great because you will lay the foundation of his life."

Laelia smiled shyly. "When you explain it like that…" A light knock on the door interrupted the rest of Laelia's statement.

"Yes?" Cadmus called out.

"Your shuttle's ready to leave."

"I'll be there." Cadmus heard footsteps move away from the door.

"How long will she be here?" Laelia asked tentatively.

Cadmus chuckled. He knew Laelia was worn out dealing with his mother on top of her own. "I made her promise not to bother you after I'm gone. To keep her visits down to a couple times a week."

"You told her that?"

"My mother's always appreciated frankness. She understands."

"What did you tell _my_ mother?" she asked teasingly.

"I'm going to let you deal with her. You have more…tact than I do."

Laelia took a breath. "I suppose I'll just have to let her know this is _my_ home now and I am fully capable of managing one baby."

Cadmus patted her shoulder. "Don't give up her help too quickly. Without our mothers, this month wouldn't have been as easy for you."

"That's true," Laelia conceded. She glanced down at Garrus as the infant wiggled in her arms. "Time for food." She looked back up at Cadmus. "I'll miss you."

Cadmus leaned down and kissed her gently. "And I you." He reached out to pat Garrus on his tiny arm. "And you. Don't give your mother too much trouble. She had enough carrying you. I order you to give her a break."

Laelia laughed and Cadmus turned to leave the room, glad he could depart on a high note. His eagerness to return to the Citadel had been tempered. He felt his stomach churn as he left his wife and son alone. Duty called and yet, when the time came to actually put his foot outside the door, something within him rebelled at the act of leaving his family behind. Cadmus wrestled his feeling into submission, doing what any good turian would do as he refused to look back, picked up his bag and headed for the shuttle.

* * *

When Cadmus strode down the landing ramp after his ship docked at the Citadel, he found Viator there to meet him just as when he and Laelia had arrived a little over a year ago. They had seen more of each other since patching things up after the attack at Avriel Warehouse. Still, they both avoided discussing Viator's actions at the time Decimus had been shot, pretending the incident had never occurred. Cadmus still didn't agree with Viator's choices, but he decided not to let past actions dictate his relationship with his cousin. Viator had failed, yes, but he had also learned. In point of fact, Cadmus' own experience at the warehouse had caused him to extend Viator grace. After all, he'd taken an action that seemed right at the time, investigating the warehouse, that had led to an unexpected and potentially deadly consequence for both himself and a teammate. Cadmus had learned from his experience, and he was sure Viator had learned as well.

Cadmus gripped Viator's right wrist in greeting. "Don't want me to feel lonely again?"

Viator grinned. "Not exactly. Though, how you managed to leave behind that gorgeous wife of yours is beyond me."

Cadmus gestured ahead and they walked side by side towards his apartment. "Garrus needs to grow up learning our ways and Palaven is the best place for his development."

"There are lots of turians here."

"And alien influence as well."

Viator rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not all bad."

Cadmus inclined his head. "I did not say all aliens were bad. But many do have different views. If Garrus is to become a good turian, it is best he learn directly and exclusively _from_ turians."

Viator breathed out loudly.

"You don't agree?" Cadmus asked with a challenging tone.

"What you say makes sense," Viator agreed noncommittally. "But he could learn from other races as well. I don't see that it's wrong."

Cadmus clenched and unclenched his jaw. "Let me be clear. I do not disparage the other races. They have their part to play in the galaxy and most of them are welcome. But turian ways, as you know well, are unique. Our culture is wholly distinctive. Many races do not share our values or concerns. I would like Garrus to know what it is to be thoroughly turian."

Viator rubbed his neck again. "I didn't mean to offend you, cousin. Of course, I understand."

Cadmus softened his tone. "I am not offended."

"Good," Viator muttered. "Cause all this talk about aliens…had me a little worried."

Cadmus slowed down as they reached the elevator that would ascend to his apartment complex. Cadmus set a critical eye on Viator. Now he noticed that his cousin was dressed in a smart suit instead of his casual duds. He was also terribly nervous. He perceived that Viator had met him at the ship for more than one reason. "What is bothering you?" he asked pointedly.

"A friend arrived a couple days ago and I wanted you to have dinner with us. I'm buying."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "Which friend?"

Viator rubbed his hands together nervously, but met Cadmus' gaze. "My quarian friend."

Cadmus breathed in slowly, considering the new information. Viator wanted him to meet the quarian that had caused him to act like a mindless incompetent. Cadmus reminded himself that the quarian hadn't actually done anything wrong. It was Viator who had handed over his gun. She hadn't forced him to do so. "Where should I meet you?"

Viator breathed out in relief. "Presidium, Fernali's. Say, 1800?"

"I will be there." The elevator opened and Cadmus stepped on, turning to watch Viator's relieved face disappear as the door closed.

* * *

When Cadmus entered the apartment, he sensed the weight of its emptiness. He silently stowed his belongings, then turned to his work e-mails. He was to report at 0600 sharp at the 3rd precinct in Zakera. He'd already been sent a couple case files. He decided to read through them, but first noticed that a personal e-mail had come through in the last two hours. It was from Laelia and included video. He tapped the data pad and Laelia appeared all smiles. He relaxed back into the couch, savoring the sound of her voice.

"I thought you might like to see us instead of reading text." She held Garrus close to the screen. "Guess who made it through the night without waking up once?" The infant gurgled and kicked, as if he knew the answer to the question was yours truly. "It was nice getting some good sleep. I told mother she would not have to stay all the time as soon as he sleeps a week like that. I think she didn't like being told what to do." Laelia chuckled. "I have you to thank for making me braver. I never thought I could be that direct with her. Anyway, I have enough civil servants to help me out." Her face grew abruptly serious. "I still miss you, but don't worry. I'm going to be the wife and mother you need." Her face lightened again as Garrus mewled out some gibberish. "He's more talkative now, too. His voice reminds me of you." Cadmus' mandibles tightened. How did his voice compare to an infant's? But Laelia went on. "Not that it's the same now, but it's how I imagine you sounded as a baby." Laelia paused, looking painfully embarrassed. "That sounded really stupid, didn't it? Ugh. Maybe I am still tired. I'm going to end this message before I make more of a fool out of myself."

The video ended, the screen going blank. Cadmus smiled widely, then felt the ache in his heart that had been growing ever since he left Palaven. Laelia always lightened his mood, minus the depression she'd waded through when she couldn't get pregnant. She counterbalanced his solemnity. Since their first night together, she'd blossomed, growing beautifully into herself. She'd become confident and open, hiding nothing from him. She spoke her mind as he wanted her to, even when they disagreed. Cadmus gazed around the apartment. It was right to come home, but that didn't mean his feelings entirely agreed. Cadmus turned his attention to the case files he'd just been sent, focusing his mind on duty as he willed his feelings to step into line.

* * *

At 1800 sharp, Cadmus arrived at Fernali's, a swanky upscale restaurant with a balcony overlooking one of the Presidium lakes. He informed the maitre d' he was with Viator Lentinus and was directed to a table on the edge of the balcony. As he approached the table, he studied the quarian sitting next to his cousin. She was slim, average height for her race, and of course, completely covered by an enviro-suit that accentuated her figure. Her eyes glowed through her helmet. For a moment, Cadmus wondered what the face inside that helmet looked like. What had Viator seen? How beautiful was she really? And how could a quarian's beauty compare to a turian's? Cadmus had always thought Viator's attraction to all females a little odd. Cadmus recognized that different species had different standards of beauty. He had never found females of other species attractive in any sexual way, not even asari, though many turians considered them remarkably appealing. Viator obviously did not have this issue. He was staring at the quarian and smiling like an infatuated teenager. He looked over as Cadmus arrived at the table.

"Cousin! Have a seat!" he welcomed.

Cadmus sat down across from Viator and looked to the quarian.

"Cadmus, this is Leea'Gren. Leea, this is my cousin, Cadmus."

Leea nodded to Cadmus and he nodded back. "I'm glad I could meet you," she spoke politely, her voice tinged with a quarian accent and sounding slightly artificial as it came through her suit.

"And you," Cadmus returned.

"Viator's told me you recently became a father. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Cadmus answered.

"What is your child's name?"

"Garrus."

"I don't recognize that turian name."

"It's an older name."

"Ah. I'm afraid most of my knowledge of turians comes from _Intergalactic Civilization_."

Cadmus knew the magazine Leea spoke of, a Council sponsored magazine meant to bring the races closer together as they learned more about one another. It was filled with all kinds of cultural explorations. Most of the time it was accurate, but now and again, a race took issue with how it was depicted, especially when its weaknesses were exposed.

A waiter appeared at the table to take their orders. Cadmus and Viator ordered; Leea explained she had her own source of nourishment. When the waiter left, an awkward silence descended over the table. Leea stared down at the lake. Viator characteristically rubbed his neck nervously. Cadmus tapped his foot under the table. He still wasn't quite sure why Viator wanted him to meet Leea'Gren, unless it was to clear the air regarding Viator's mistake. Maybe he thought Cadmus meeting Leea was the final step in repairing their relationship.

"What ship are you from?" Cadmus finally asked casually, partly trying to make small talk and partly curious. He knew little about the Migrant Fleet, other than that it tended to provoke trouble wherever it went. Quarians weren't exactly liked by most species. Most viewed them as beggars at best and thieves at worst. Cadmus himself was ambivalent, not having enough close dealings with quarians to make a firm judgment.

Leea looked back over at him. "Silhah. It's a large ship."

Cadmus did know that large ships were points of pride for quarians. "Why are you on the Citadel?"

Leea glanced briefly at Viator, then folded her hands together and spoke carefully. "To pick up medical supplies. I ferry them back home."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. He was sure she'd been truthful. He'd heard quarians didn't leave the Fleet unless necessary or required. Still…the way she'd looked to Viator. Cadmus began to feel uncomfortable. He thought that perhaps Leea had taken a liking to Viator, maybe too much of a liking.

"She comes here a couple times a year," Viator explained.

"I like the Citadel," Leea said, talking to Viator more than to Cadmus. "I get to see what I read about. There's so much to discover."

Cadmus thought then that Leea'Gren sounded young, still an idealist, even after she'd been attacked on her Pilgrimage. He sensed in her an eternal optimism.

The waiter returned and placed their dinners on the table. They ate between snatches of quick and often forced conversation. Cadmus was intrigued when Leea hooked up a tube to her suit, sucking in a nutrient paste she'd brought along. He understood that quarians had adapted to their suits, but he was certainly glad he wasn't restricted in such a way. When Cadmus had almost finished, he noted Viator fiddling with his own dish.

"Something on your mind, cousin?" he prompted. He was certain now that there was more going on here than he'd been let it on.

"Well…uh…"

"Speak straight. I'm tired of watching you act like a scared scuridin outside its den."

Viator gulped. Leea reached out a hand and linked fingers with Viator, leading Cadmus to an unwelcome conclusion that was confirmed when Viator finally spoke candidly. "I wanted you to know that Leea and I are…courting."

Cadmus stared down his cousin. Viator flitted from female to female. He loved them all, or so he said. So the fact that the word "courting" had just come out of his mouth brought Cadmus' thoughts to a screeching halt. Courting for a turian meant far more than dating. It meant you were seeing a female exclusively with an eye towards marriage. It wasn't a word to be used lightly and yet, Viator's tone implied he meant the word in all its gravity. After Cadmus reasoned this out, a flurry of reasons why considering a quarian spouse was unwise flooded his mind. Quarians were tied to the Fleet. None that he knew of had left the Fleet to join with an alien. Not to mention they couldn't even leave their suits for fear of infection. Cadmus was sure Viator had enough germs to poison Leea for life. As he gazed on the couple sitting across from him, he concluded they were caught in a silly fantasy. She had been attacked and Viator had been her savior. Of course she would idolize him and Cadmus was certain Viator found nothing so compelling than being the hero to a female no matter her race. Cadmus almost began to preach his logic, but checked himself. It wouldn't be proper in front of Leea. But he'd have an earful for Viator when this was over.

* * *

Viator bid Leea good-bye at the entrance to Fernali's. The quarian had announced she had to oversee the stowing of the medicine she'd come for, but also promised she'd see Viator before she left. Cadmus watched chagrined as they clasped hands as they talked, Viator letting go of Leea far too slowly. He watched her walk down the hall, then turned to Cadmus. His face, at first glowing with excitement, faded into apprehension. "So…you've met her."

"Walk with me," Cadmus commanded, probably a bit too authoritatively as Viator folded his arms across his chest.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like her."

Cadmus sighed. "Let's talk over here," he suggested, pointing towards a bench in an alcove not far away from the restaurant.

"You can disparage her right here if you want to," Viator came back, obviously beginning to be angry.

"I did not dislike her," Cadmus stated.

"Oh." Viator followed Cadmus over to the alcove. Neither sat. Viator leaned against the back of the alcove. Cadmus stood to the side, trying to figure out how to talk some sense into his cousin with the least offense possible.

"I did not dislike her," Cadmus eventually repeated.

"You said that already," Viator returned, annoyance in his voice.

Cadmus drew in a breath, trying to form the right words. "I do not know her enough to judge her character. But even then, her character is not what concerns me."

Viator blew a breath out his nose. "What then?"

"Her culture and yours are at odds."

Viator tightened his mandibles. "We can make it work."

"Think, cousin," Cadmus implored. "She will not leave the Migrant Fleet."

"She doesn't have to," Viator replied vehemently.

"How can you have a proper relationship with her if you never see her?"

"You left _your_ wife on Palaven," Viator countered, speaking less spitefully and more shrewdly.

Cadmus felt his muscles tense. Viator's comment was a low blow, but he controlled his reaction, knowing barking at Viator in anger would do nothing to change his cousin's mind. "But I can at least touch her, come close to her, _know_ her."

Viator shifted uncomfortably against the wall. "Leea says they have sterile rooms for that kind of thing and she can take antibiotics."

"This is my point," Cadmus said. "She will be in danger. Even then, you will not be able to protect her entirely from yourself."

"Are you certain this isn't your prejudice speaking?" Viator challenged.

"My prejudice?"

"You can't tell me you care about quarians, can you?"

Cadmus took another long breath, agitated with his cousin's ignorance concerning his intentions. "They are not my people, so my loyalty does not extend to them in such a manner. But when they come on this station, I guarantee they have the full weight of my protection. I do not care what race someone is. They deserve the same respect and protection that C-Sec offers."

Viator bowed his head and rubbed his neck. "Yeah." He looked back up at Cadmus. "I just wanted you to know about us. I didn't want you to find out some other way. This is serious, Cadmus. She's not like the others."

Cadmus contemplated Viator's assertion. The "others" had all been flighty, ungrounded, swooning types who drooled over a handsome and capable turian. They never lasted, Cadmus suspected, because Viator never went deeper than the tip of a talon in a relationship. Viator wasn't looking to settle down; he was looking to have some fun. What made Leea so different then? Despite the depth of his thoughts, all Cadmus did was ask skeptically, "Is she?"

"Yes," Viator responded adamantly. "We've been corresponding for years. She's thoughtful, compassionate, intelligent…" Viator stopped abruptly as Cadmus continued to stare doubtfully. "You want the truth?" he asked. "Truth is, I've watched you and Laelia and I like what I see." Cadmus was surprised at Viator's confession, unaware his relationship with his wife had been so keenly observed by his cousin. "So I decided that it was time to tell Leea how much I've admired her and things just went from there, pretty quickly actually."

"There are no turian females that have caught your eye?" Cadmus inquired.

Viator chuckled. "Good old Cadmus," he said good-naturedly. "I know you think I'm strange, Cousin. It's your loss really if you can't appreciate all the galaxy has to offer."

Cadmus couldn't help but smile shortly as Viator read his thoughts. His smile dissolved however as he formulated words of wisdom he wished his cousin to pay heed to. "A female is worthy of your protection. A marriage is bound by duty. You will find it difficult to be what your friend needs. You come from very different places. It will not be easy."

Viator walked over to Cadmus and slapped his cousin on the shoulder. "I know that. And I know you only want to help me. Wouldn't you say, though, that it is even more honorable if I have to fight through the difficulties and obstacles just to love her?"

Cadmus said nothing, not quite sure how to answer that question. There was some logic in Viator's contention and yet the difficulties and obstacles in this case might be insurmountable.

"I have to go get suited up for work," Viator said, stepping outside the alcove. "I'm glad you met her. She'll grow on you if you give her a chance." He walked brusquely away headed back to Bachjret.

Cadmus watched Viator go, still not sure what he thought of his cousin hooking up with a quarian. _You aren't in charge of Viator's life, _Cadmus reminded himself. _At least he told me directly._ Cadmus left the alcove himself, walking in the opposite direction of his cousin. He would have to be content to let Viator make his own choices and fall or stand as he may. He pushed thoughts of Viator's romance out of his mind, focusing instead on getting back to his own apartment and getting a good night's sleep before his first day at his new precinct.

* * *

Cadmus scrutinized Zakera Ward as he strode towards its 3rd precinct. He felt knots in his stomach, yet carried himself with an air of confidence. He knew how to force his nerves into submission. Zakera began with a hub, its entrance a plethora of shops, bars, eating venues and a rather impressive club. As such, Zakera saw more visitors than most other wards. As one walked further in, it transitioned into residential areas. These housed mainly volus, elcor and hanar, species gratefully quiet in nature. The challenge in Zakera rarely came from them. It came from the areas Cadmus currently approached—batarian housing.

As Cadmus marched through the area, batarians who'd risen early watched him pass with curiosity—or so Cadmus hoped. He hoped they weren't instead staring him down with animosity. Their four eyes always disconcerted him. He could never tell exactly what they were looking at and how they felt about what they were seeing. Batarians, he well knew, had a disreputable standing in the galaxy. They had caused numerous incidents trying to annex various colonies, and their slaving and drug running endeavors were well known. As such, there was no love lost between turians and batarians. Batarians represented to turians the dregs of criminal activity and Cadmus assumed batarians considered turians law-abiding nuisances.

Cadmus passed the batarian residential district, now in the mid-section of Zakera. Precinct 3 was located here, along with another batch of shops, warehouses and factories. He approached the precinct and entered its lobby, marching straight up to the salarian receptionist. "Cadmus Vakarian reporting for duty."

The salarian looked up. "Cadmus Vakarian? Welcome! Welcome!"

Cadmus sighed inwardly. His reputation from the Pavo incident was clearly at work. "I've been reassigned here. I am to report to Detective Lazarin Cerula."

"Yes, of course, yes. Follow me."

Cadmus trailed behind the salarian who led him down a few halls and up to the door of an office. The salarian continued to stare at him so Cadmus glared him down. The salarian finally retreated, glancing back as he went. Cadmus groaned inside. He hated being well-known. He pushed the chime next to the door.

"Enter," came a strong, flanging voice.

Cadmus stepped through the door and into a well-organized and clean office stocked with a gun rack on one side, a wardrobe for suits of armor and a wall of screens. The turian who had been sitting behind his desk stood and paced over to Cadmus, his arm outstretched. "Cadmus Vakarian."

"Yes, sir," Cadmus said, returning Lazarin Cerula's firm wrist grip.

"Have a seat."

Cadmus sat down as Lazarin made his way back to his chair behind his desk.

"Of course, I've heard a lot about you," Lazarin spoke approvingly. "I was pleased when they told me they were sending you here."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank yourself. It's your skills that got you here."

"The honor should be Detective Mehrkuri's," Cadmus clarified, not comfortable taking the credit for the honor indirectly spilled on his name.

Lazarin laughed. "Decimus told me you were like this. Pure turian he said."

"You know the detective?" Cadmus inquired.

Lazarin smiled broadly. "Worked together on enforcement when we were new. He's still got that burr in his cowl?" Cadmus tried not to smile and Lazarin laughed again. "You don't need to answer. I can tell from your face he does. Ah well, it's what makes him one of the best officers on the station."

Lazarin flashed on his omni-tool. "Enough about Detective Mehrkuri." He tapped for a few seconds and Cadmus' omni-tool vibrated as it received info. Cadmus turned it on, reading over the list Lazarin had just sent him. "We're a bit more equipped here than Bachjret. I've got two teams under me. Most of the time they investigate their own cases, but work together when necessary. You're going to head one of them. I've sent you your officers."

Cadmus read down the list. Two turian names and one salarian. They were a team of four then. He assumed the other team mirrored this.

"Your tech specialist started two weeks ago. The other two have been here a few years," Lazarin continued explaining. "You'll find I run my office differently than Mehrkuri. I depend on _you_ to draw your conclusions. I trust my officers to do their jobs and do them well. I'm not going to stand over your shoulder and make sure you do it right."

Cadmus, although appreciating Decimus' mentorship, found the idea of freedom and flexibility as a leader in the precinct exhilarating. He felt he already liked Lazarin Cerula as a boss immensely.

"You read through the cases I sent?"

Cadmus inclined his head.

"Figured you would. Get to it then. You'll find your office down the hall. I told your team to be waiting for you. Your word is law to them."

Cadmus stood. "Sir," he acknowledged, then departed. He walked quickly down the hall, finding the room that had his nameplate to its side. He drew himself up to his full height. His mother had always hounded on the idea that first impressions mattered more than anything else. He agreed with her wholeheartedly on that point. He stepped up to the door and marched through when it opened, taking in both his office and its occupants.

The turian he first laid eyes on stood across from him leaning against the wall in a thoroughly relaxed pose. He was gray like Cadmus, perhaps a shade darker, light blue tattoos arcing over his eyes and down his mandibles. His eyes were sharp and he stood to attention immediately when Cadmus entered. The other turian was sitting in a chair, a darker turian with white tattoos in horizontal lines crossing his eyes and passing back along his crest. He likewise stood when the door opened. The last occupant of the room couldn't help but be noticed. He was salarian, tall, reddish skin tone, two prominent horns adorning his head. He rushed up to Cadmus.

"Detective Vakarian, it's an honor to work with you, sir, an absolute honor." Cadmus hadn't expected such over-the-top enthusiasm from any member of his new team. "Kepel holds you in high esteem. He has told me everything about you. Well, I asked a lot about you, really. Kepel is too quiet, isn't he?"

Cadmus stared down at the salarian. "You are a friend of Kepel's?"

"Hatchmate. Born at the same time but not blood related. Grew up together on Sur'Kesh. Our dalatrass…"

"Relax, Joran," the turian who had been leaning against the wall drawled out. "Give him a chance to get to know you on his own before you blab it all." He walked across the room and stood before Cadmus. "Tychus Halel. Interrogator. You catch them, I'll break them."

Cadmus stifled a smile at the turian's words. Was it bravado or confidence in his tone? He couldn't tell at the moment, but he was sure he would know soon enough.

The darker turian spoke up. "I'm Asheel. Tech specialist."

Ah, the newbie. The list indicated he'd transferred in from Nimines, a turian colony.

"Joran," the salarian said, pointing to himself and grinning broadly. "I handle surveillance. I have good eyes. My dalatrass praised them highly. Do you want to discuss a case?"

Tychus snorted. "Let _him_ tell us what to do." Cadmus noted that although Tychus obviously was annoyed by Joran's exuberance, Joran didn't seem to notice. He just looked bright eyed up into Cadmus' face.

"Let's discuss the Hactet case."

"Fine. Let's," Joran beamed.

Cadmus moved behind his desk. For the next hour he paced his team through the two cases he'd been sent. He spent as much time dissecting the cases as he did his new teammates. He found Tychus a rather impatient turian, the tediousness of observation not his purview. Cadmus concluded that his end goal was to get a criminal in his hands so he could force a confession and provide solid evidence that led to swift judgment. Cadmus noted to himself the importance of seeing Tychus in action to determine if his means skirted legality or not. Joran predictably put his all into his job. His words spilled out quickly and almost humorously. Cadmus wondered how Joran ever managed to breathe as he talked. Still, his surveillance of suspects was commendable. Asheel said little, but whether this was because he had a quiet nature or because of his newness to the team, Cadmus couldn't tell. What insights he did offer were valuable and his technical analyses accurate.

Cadmus, having worked through the cases and established the lay of the land, began to assign responsibilities when his door opened. A gray turian with maroon tattoos stood in the doorway, eyes honed in on Cadmus. "Had to see the competition."

Cadmus stood. "Excuse me?"

Tychus laughed. "Gratus. Heads up the other team." He looked to Gratus. "He took down a drug empire, think you can do better?"

Gratus groaned. "Please. Give me a week. I'll get all the batarians shoved out an airlock."

"All talk and no action," Tychus came back. "How's the asari working out?"

Gratus scowled at Tychus. "She'll come around."

"From what I've seen, she's leading your team."

"Keep your eyes on your own fringe," Gratus grumbled. He stepped back from the door, letting it shut again.

Tychus laughed heartily.

"What was that about?" Cadmus asked, eyes narrowed.

"Gratus is a bit…arrogant," Asheel spoke in a measured tone.

"A bit?" Tychus objected. "Thinks he's C-Sec's gift to the station. He was pretty upset over the Pavo incident. Annoyed someone else got the drug runners first." He looked approvingly at Cadmus. "And by the way, thanks for that. I've never seen Gratus so humbled."

"Will he be a problem?" Cadmus asked.

"Not for us. He's got his own problems with Denae on his team."

"New tech specialist," Joran piped up. "Asari. Quite good. Bother to Gratus. She has more brains, more logic. Just what I like."

"Look," Tychus said. "Gratus isn't worth our time. You do what you do best. We'll do what we do best. At the end of the year, we'll have solved more difficult cases than his team and we get bragging rights."

Cadmus felt his blood race. "Justice isn't a competition."

"Uh…" Tychus stammered, apparently confused.

"It does not matter how many cases we solve or how difficult they are. What matters is that justice is carried out, that we exonerate the innocent and convict the guilty. I will not have this team focused on quantity. We will solve cases the right way, we follow the station's rules and we rid the station of criminal influence. That is _all_ that matters."

Tychus' mandibles flexed a moment, but he fell in line. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

Asheel smiled. He said nothing, but Cadmus read the appreciation in his gaze.

Joran likewise grinned. "Justice. Yes, justice must be paramount."

Cadmus sucked in a breath, then sat back in his chair. He eyed each member of his team pointedly as he said, "We do things right or we don't do them at all. Understand?"

Each member agreed nonverbally. As Cadmus began to assign duties, a small niggling in the back of his mind pondered the irony that he'd just spoken the motto of Decimus Mehrkuri, a motto that had initially plagued him, but he'd learned the value of. It was a good motto, one he had unconsciously decided to live by. Indeed, he'd come to believe that in every area of his life, whether work or marriage or fatherhood, doing things right or not doing them at all was all that mattered.

* * *

Author's Note: Cadmus' motto comes from the Mass Effect writers; I've simply given it a back story. The next chapters will move into exploring Cadmus' relationship with Garrus as he grows up, a survey of important events that occur between the elder and younger Vakarian. Looking forward to delving into their relationship once Garrus can walk and talk :-) To whet your appetite for the next chapter, Cadmus reacts to humanity's entrance onto the galactic stage.


	13. Relay 314

Cadmus paced quickly down a wide hall flanked on both sides by his teammates. They'd been in the middle of discussing a case when Lazarin had commanded them to head to the Shrine of the Enkindlers immediately. Lazarin had only briefly explained to Cadmus that an incident had occurred between a crowd of hanar and some batarians. Cadmus knew that all last week and up till now the hanar had been celebrating a festival known to them as Nyahir, translated roughly as "First Cresting Bloom." Cadmus had no idea what exactly took place during the festival. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that the festival went off without a hitch. No real trouble had been expected. C-Sec had provided extra enforcement in the area more as a way to keep the ward functional since every hanar on the station would converge on the Shrine of the Enkindlers. Such a large crowd demanded some level of management from C-Sec.

"What's up?" Tychus asked as they marched down the hall.

"Batarians at the Shrine," Cadmus replied, eyes straight ahead.

Tychus snorted derisively. "Of course. Batarians again."

"What are they doing at the Shrine?" Asheel queried.

"Who knows?" Tychus returned. "They show up anywhere just to cause trouble for us."

"Batarians and hanar interact little. Few economic ties. Prefer to ignore one another when possible. Trouble between them not common." Cadmus had gotten used to Joran's way of speaking, his choppy, energetic sentences. Tychus, however, was as ever annoyed by him.

"Good work, genius," Tychus drawled out sarcastically. Cadmus turned his head to the turian on his right, his eyes reprimanding his teammate. Tychus tightened his mandibles. "Sorry, boss…Uh, Joran, good insight."

Cadmus stifled a laugh by firming up his jaw. Although the salarian never seemed bothered by Tychus' obvious disdain, Cadmus had still pulled Tychus aside early on when he perceived the turian's actions towards Joran were continually unbecoming. It wasn't right for Tychus to treat a teammate in such a way. He had ordered his interrogator to play nice or go home. Tychus, at heart a good turian, had acquiesced to Cadmus' seniority. However, at times he forgot himself and had to be reminded.

The Shrine of the Enkindlers came into view, an impressive structure of a translucent aqua color. The area directly in front was thick with hanar, almost every space filled except for an aisle down the middle forced open by two rows of C-Sec enforcement officers. As Cadmus reached the aisle, he caught sight of a turian officer he by now knew well.

"What do we have, Charin?" Cadmus asked.

Charin gestured for Cadmus to walk alongside him. Cadmus did so, the rest of his team following behind. "I've never seen anything like it. I don't know what to make of it. Nothing like this has ever happened."

Cadmus heard the shock and confusion in Charin's voice. "I _know_ you've seen batarian handiwork before."

"It's not the batarians I've got under arrest," Charin said.

Cadmus cocked his head. "Hanar?"

Charin nodded.

"What did they do?"

"You tell me," Charin came back. He stopped at the end of the aisle and pointed. Cadmus counted three batarian bodies lying motionless on the ground.

"You're saying some hanar took them out?"

"According to him," now Charin pointed to the side, "yes." A batarian stood manacled next to a turian officer, breathing shallowly and trembling visibly. Cadmus scanned the hanar crowd. It was eerily silent, but only because Cadmus couldn't interpret hanar language. They weren't making noise, yet waves of bioluminescence lit up their bodies. At any other time, he wouldn't have noticed it, but now it bothered him. He didn't like that potential witnesses and criminals could talk without him overhearing.

"Joran, Asheel, track down all surveillance in this area. I want to know if there is any video feed of this."

"Sir," Asheel responded, followed by Joran's wordier, "Of course, sir." They turned and headed back down the aisle, already discussing how to go about their task.

"Tychus, talk to the batarian." Tychus grinned, prompting Cadmus to issue another command. "Be firm, but kind. He's possibly a victim here. It won't do for C-Sec to be seen tormenting him."

Tychus grumbled under his breath, but headed over to the batarian. Cadmus knew his teammate would try his best to follow his commands, even if he wasn't entirely successful. Cadmus strode forwards, kneeling down next to one of the batarian bodies. The batarian was white as a sheet as if all life had been sucked out of him. Cadmus reached out to touch his hand. He was warm. This had definitely occurred only recently, the batarians killed on the premises. Cadmus observed bruising about the batarian's neck and face. He stood and observed the other two bodies. Same markings and same color. He glanced over at Tychus, now in conversation with the batarian. He then turned his attention to a group of five officers surrounding four hanar. These hanar said nothing, no light emanating from their bodies. Cadmus assumed Charin had instructed them to be silent.

Tychus walked back over to Cadmus, looking down curiously at the batarian bodies. "You're not going to believe this, sir."

"Tell me."

"He claims some of these hanar dragged them here, then attacked them for no cause."

"How were they attacked?"

"He isn't really sure, just that one moment he was standing here and another he was on the ground with a load of jelly in his face."

Cadmus didn't entirely approve of the slang term for hanar. It was a derogatory term to the race, but he let it go for the moment. "Do you believe him?"

Tychus' mandibles flexed in irritation. "He seems scared to death of them. He's insisting we take him in now and charge him with whatever we want. Yeah, I believe him."

Cadmus eyed the hanar in custody. "I don't want anyone leaving this area until we get any surveillance. I want everyone who was involved in this."

"Yes, sir."

"See if you can find any witnesses."

"Sir." Tychus moved back into the crowd.

Cadmus spent the next ten minutes interviewing the batarian himself, trying to get more details. The batarian said he and his buddies had just left a club and were walking past the Shrine when several hanar surrounded them, pushing in on them and moving them towards the temple. They didn't know what to think, at first being simply annoyed they'd been caught up in the hanar's festivities. Then a flurry of salmon colored bodies had descended upon them. The batarian said he was knocked to the floor and he felt a pressure on his face and throat. As suddenly as he'd been attacked, the hanar backed off. He'd rolled over to see his companions dead. He himself strained to breathe. Then C-Sec had shown up. He had no idea how they'd been informed.

Cadmus made his way back to Charin. "How did you get the call?"

Charin indicated a hanar at the end of the aisle. "That one informed one of my officers of the incident."

Cadmus walked over to the hanar. He'd only interviewed one other hanar. It had been both a frustrating and a pleasant interview. Frustrating in that the hanar spoke so politely it could drive one to distraction, pleasant in that it was _the_ most polite interview he'd ever had.

"I've been informed you came to these batarians' aid."

"This one did seek out an officer," the hanar spoke, his voice sounding soft, smooth and slightly hazy through Cadmus' translator.

"Do you know what happened here?"

"This one is not certain. This one stood in the back of the crowd."

"Is there anyone who can tell me what happened?"

"The guilty can reveal the truth."

"I meant was anyone here a witness of the crime?"

"This one believes this officer should talk to those near the front."

Cadmus tried not to sigh visibly. The hanar was clearly no help at all. "Thank you for your time," he spoke quickly, then walked back over to Charin. "He's no help."

Charin nodded. "I reached the same conclusion."

Tychus approached Cadmus. "Sir, I have found a witness."

"Only one?"

Tychus growled in his throat. "Most claimed they didn't see anything. One, however, became more cooperative when I suggested that its claims were baseless. It crumbled, admitting it knows something."

Cadmus' set his jaw. Tychus' "suggestion" was probably more of a veiled threat. Cadmus knew Tychus had been trying to tone down his gruff nature to please him, but he still had a long way to go.

Cadmus heard a voice in his ear over his comm. "Sir, this is Asheel."

"Go ahead," Cadmus answered, putting his hand to his ear.

"We have the video. It's clear. Enforcement has the right culprits in custody."

"Got it."

"And, sir? This video is crazy. I didn't even know hanar could be this deadly."

"Have the video ready back at headquarters. We're coming in."

"Yes, sir."

Cadmus turned to stare at the four hanar standing silently next to their C-Sec captors. They looked so innocuous and powerless. What had they done? And how had they done it?

* * *

When Cadmus and Tychus reached his office, Asheel and Joran were already there. Cadmus made a beeline for his desk, staring at his computer screen with interest. A paused video provided a clear view of the front of the Shrine of the Enkindlers. Tychus stood next to Cadmus, his curiosity getting the better of him. Usually, Cadmus wouldn't have liked a teammate staring over his shoulder, but he made an exception. Tychus was just as flummoxed as he how four hanar had taken down four batarians.

Cadmus pushed play and watched as the group of hanar appeared with the batarians among them. It looked to Cadmus as if the batarians had simply been pulled along in a wave of movement. They had picked their way past the Shrine at the wrong time. The hanar swayed in intricate patterns and the batarians had unfortunately become part of the pattern. But then the batarians started to jerk and shake. Hanar backed away from them, revealing the four hanar attacking the batarians. The hanar had latched onto their victims, their limbs wrapped around their bodies and their heads squished into their faces. Within moments, the batarians were on the floor. The hanar who had just attacked them stood prominently in front of the Shrine flickering rapidly. The video feed ended and Cadmus looked up at Tychus. The turian was for once speechless. "It's…it's…"

"The stuff of nightmares," Asheel finished.

Tychus nodded. "It's like Aquilani come to life."

Cadmus glanced back at the screen. Aquilani was a multi-tentacled mythical sea creature on Palaven. The story went that in times long past, Aquilani swam the deep oceans hungry for justice. He had been forced far out to sea by the earliest turians and he longed to come back inland. When he was little, Cadmus' mother had threatened once that if he didn't shape up, Aquilani would find him prime food to satisfy his hunger. Cadmus had laughed it off even then, but as a child was wont to do, a hint of fear sat at the back of his mind, achieving his mother's desired result.

Cadmus looked curiously to Joran who had been conspicuously silent. "You don't have any comment, Joran?"

The salarian rocked back and forth on his feet. "It is…too disturbing for words."

Cadmus shook his head. They were C-Sec officers, well trained and bred without fear and the simple sight of hanar squeezing and sucking someone to death frightened them? But then, perhaps that was exactly why it frightened them. It was entirely disturbing to realize that something you always assumed so innocent had the power, and maybe the will, to kill you.

"Tychus and Asheel," Cadmus spoke, his voice exuding duty and confidence. "Interview the perpetrators. I'm going to talk to the witness."

"Yes, sir," Tychus and Asheel responded almost in unison.

Cadmus stood, but paused when he reached the door, turning to his officers. "Don't let them sense any fear in you. You're C-Sec. Act like it."

* * *

Cadmus sat in front of the witness, a nondescript hanar that looked to him like any other. He pulled up a file and read the hanar's name: Ophed.

"Ophed, what can you tell me about what happened at the Shrine today?"

The hanar didn't move an inch, and its voice came out politely and calmly as all hanar spoke. "This one prefers not to answer."

Cadmus let out a slow breath. "If you do not answer my questions, you could find yourself arrested for inhibiting an investigation."

Ophed's bioluminescence shone long and brightly. "This one does not wish to be arrested."

"Tell me what happened then."

"Can this one trust that its words will not leave this room?"

Cadmus dipped his head. "I will keep it confidential as much as I am able, though your testimony may be needed."

The hanar glowed again. "This one would find it difficult to testify."

"You won't necessarily have to speak publicly," Cadmus assured Ophed. "We can keep your testimony on file. We have video that proves the guilty parties, but you will provide corroboration, and I hope, motive." Cadmus waited a few moments, giving the hanar time to make a decision. To his satisfaction, the hanar decided to comply.

"This one has chosen to speak…These four are Senthriam."

"Senthriam?"

"There is no word for it in any other language. It is a detestable word. This one learned from a young age not to speak it."

"Can you explain what Senthriam are?"

"It is not what they are, it is what they do."

Cadmus sighed inside. This was the frustrating part of talking with a hanar, the cryptic words and hidden meanings. "What do they do, then?"

"They worship the Enkindlers."

Cadmus cocked his head. "All hanar worship the Enkindlers."

"Yes, but they worship the Enkindlers with hanshia."

Cadmus forced himself to be patient. "Explain hanshia."

"This one is searching for a description." Cadmus allowed the hanar some time, impatient and wondering how Tychus was getting along. "Senthriam claim the Enkindlers need hanshia to exist. Hanshia is the giving of one to keep another alive."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "Sacrifice?"

"Sacrifice is an acceptable term, though limited. It is not the entirety of hanshia. Hanshia is more than sacrifice. Hanshia reaches beyond time and space to word unknown."

Cadmus tried to logic out what Ophed was telling him. The four hanar they arrested worshiped the Protheans by sacrificing to them. Why, he couldn't follow, but the fact that he now knew some hanar might kill others to praise the Enkindlers concerned him. "How widespread is this hanshia?" he demanded.

"Only Senthriam practice hanshia."

"Are there any other Senthriam on this station?"

Ophed flashed with a twitter of color, something Cadmus had once been told was hanar laughter. "Senthriam are only four."

"So we have arrested all Senthriam?" Cadmus asked for clarification.

"Yes."

"Why attack batarians?"

Ophed glimmered for a moment. "Senthriam say four eyes see better than two or one or none. Hanshia is optimally achieved with batarian life forms."

Cadmus stared at the hanar. Different cultures, different beliefs, different aberrations. The Citadel and its occupants certainly expanded his view of the galaxy's inhabitants and every time he thought he'd seen it all, something like this came along. He wondered apprehensively what he'd encounter next.

* * *

"I never knew hanar could kill like that," Paeon's subdued voice muttered.

"Neither did I," Viator concurred. "I've arrested almost every species on this station, but never a hanar. I'd like to see that video."

"Trust me," Asheel spoke up, "You don't want to. It'll give you nightmares."

"How did they do it anyway?" Viator asked.

"According to the Citadel database, hanar are capable of a tight grip and secreting a toxic poison," Joran informed his companions. "I surmise this is what they did."

"It _is_ what that did," Kepel confirmed. "They utilized an enhancing drug as well to strengthen their tentacles. I have read the report."

Cadmus smiled at Kepel. "You got it so soon? It only happened this morning."

Kepel grinned widely. "You know that when I desire, I can discover information."

Cadmus nodded, appreciating his former teammate's skill, a skill he still valued even if they no longer worked together. He picked up his drink and took a swig. It wasn't alcoholic. Even now, with Laelia light years away, he couldn't bring himself to break his promise. Indeed, with her so far away, he felt even more compelled to keep it. It was something that tied him to her on a station now devoid of her.

On the other hand, one of the pluses about Laelia being off station was that he had more freedom to do what he did now—hang out with friends. Over the last year, this group had come together to unwind after their long days. Actually, without trying, Cadmus himself had been the impetus for the group. His fame in C-Sec naturally drew officers to him, especially teammates that trusted him implicitly. He glanced around the table. Himself, Viator, Paeon, Kepel, Asheel and Joran were the core group. They'd come together so often that the bartender, an uncharacteristically friendly batarian, had memorized their drink choices and sent them over the moment they sat down. At times, Tychus also joined them, but he was usually off pursuing other interests after work, combat competitions mostly. Cadmus had attended a couple to support and bond with his team member. He had to admit Tychus was good, if a bit too aggressive.

Now Cadmus set his eyes on the newest member of their social group, Venari Pallin. Venari was a darker turian with light blue tattoos that covered most of his face. He'd been in C-Sec a few years longer than Cadmus and was friends with Asheel. The two had been teens together on a space combat training ship. Venari currently worked in the Presidium, but Asheel had brought him down to Zakera, introducing him to their little social gathering.

"We underestimated them," Venari said, taking a sip from his glass. "It was a critical error. As Joran points out, a simple search would have alerted us to the danger."

Cadmus inclined his head appreciatively. He almost always agreed with Venari. He'd found them similar in their approach to C-Sec, each championing the goal to know both the rules and the aliens of the Citadel so well, they would never be surprised by anything nor miss any criminal element. "We should implement a program, remind our officers that any alien can be threat, even those that appear harmless."

Viator groaned. "A program? Can't they just send an e-mail?"

Paeon chuckled. "Would you read it?"

Viator rubbed his neck. "Sure…I mean, probably…"

Asheel fixed Viator with a knowing gaze. "You'd delete it, wouldn't you?"

Viator's mandibles flexed. "I'd skim it first," he defended himself. Everyone around the table grinned.

"Thus, why I suggest a program," Cadmus said, sending his cousin an amused look. "I should talk to Clineas."

"Great," Viator grumbled. "Now I get to lose even more of my free time."

"I think that your disagreement stems less from your desire to avoid work and more from your lack of time to contact Leea'Gren vas Silhah." All eyes snapped to Joran. Joran had a way of seeing right to the heart of matters…and then speaking about it. It wasn't uncommon for him to tread over decorum as he aired the truth. And as always, he was blissfully unaware of the social awkwardness he caused.

"That is...a private matter for Officer Lentinus," Kepel spoke gently to Joran.

"Is it?" Joran asked innocently.

"Forgive my hatchmate," Kepel addressed Viator. "Mating is not so private in our culture. We forget at times the ways of other species differ from ours."

Viator waved his hand, dismissing Kepel's attempt to smooth the situation over. "It's alright, Kepel." He looked around the table. "I don't think my feelings are secret." There was a moment of awkward silence, then Asheel broke the silence with a short laugh.

"How could it be secret? You bring her up pretty much every time we get together."

Viator tilted his head. "I do?" At this, a twitter of laughter moved around the circle.

"Cousin," Cadmus said pointedly. "When you're in love, the whole station knows it." Viator rubbed the back of his neck, the revelation of his lack of discretion clearly an embarrassment.

"Ah, we like you that way," Asheel continued. "Gives us juicy gossip to spread around the office."

"What?" Viator exclaimed, his reaction causing even louder laughter. "Are you serious? Cadmus, do they really talk about me?"

Cadmus tried to control his chuckling and answer Viator, but he was interrupted by a deep and angry flanging voice. "Here sit the Vakarian-lovers. Can't get enough of him on the job so they have to grovel at the bars."

Venari's mandibles tightened and he looked fiercely at the turian that had approached their table. "Find somewhere else to skulk, Gratus."

"Can't speak for yourself, Vakarian?" Gratus challenged.

Cadmus sighed, peering up at the fiery eyes of the other lead investigator from Zakera's 3rd Precinct. Ten months ago he would have had to fight the urge to deck Gratus; now he simply pitied his state of constant aggression. Gratus always had it out for him, his arrogance eating away at his character. He hated Cadmus for two reasons: One, Cadmus had solved more cases and harder cases then his team and two, Cadmus didn't care. It was the second reason that Cadmus suspected Gratus hated him the most. That, and Lazarin had taken to instructing Gratus to follow in Cadmus' footsteps, to care more about justice than numbers.

"I don't have a problem with you," Cadmus spoke evenly. "If you want to be civil, then join us. If not, you can leave." Silent tension reigned at the table. Cadmus harbored no ill will towards Gratus, but he couldn't vouch for his friends.

"Why would I ever join _you_?" Gratus questioned haughtily.

"Gratus, what are you doing?" a harsh, feminine voice rang out.

Gratus growled in his throat and turned to stare down at the newcomer, a wiry asari. "I am_ not_ on duty. You can mind your own business."

"They're from your precinct. The least you could do is pretend you respect them." Cadmus met the asari's eyes. He'd had a few opportunities to work with the other team in the precinct and he'd come to the conclusion that Denae was their most valuable asset. She was a hardworking, intuitive officer and a natural born leader. She should have been the head of her team. Cadmus had often wished it were so. They could accomplish even more if the teams worked together smoothly.

Gratus glared down at Denae and for a moment Cadmus thought he might actually lash out at the asari, but his other two teammates called out from a table, encouraging him to come over. He walked away without a backward glance. Denae sighed and smiled apologetically at the group as if to say "you know how he is" and made her way towards the bar.

"Some day I'm going to challenge him to a macto," a familiar voice declared. Cadmus looked up at Tychus who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"How good is he at combat?" Paeon asked.

Tychus' mandibles flared in and out in the turian equivalent of a shrug. "I could take him. Put him in his place."

"_Ignore_ him," Cadmus instructed with authority. "I don't want my team encouraging dissent in the precinct."

Tychus smiled. "Relax, boss. I wouldn't disgrace you like that." He pulled up a chair and joined the table. "I didn't come here to talk about Gratus anyway. Have you heard the news about Relay 314?" Everyone around the table sent Tychus blank stares. "Someone tried to activate it." No one reacted for a few seconds, then Joran spoke up.

"Relay 314. It is off limits. A dormant relay declared so by the Council after the Rachni Wars."

"Yeah," Tychus returned.

"Who tried to activate it?" Viator inquired.

"The Hierarchy isn't sure."

"The Hierarchy's involved?" Asheel asked.

"Our patrols caught them, stopped them."

"How do you know about this?" Venari wondered aloud.

"The Hierarchy reported to the Council, of course," Tychus explained. "But the incident happened over a week ago. The only reason I know about it now is whoever went after the relay destroyed our patrol and that kind of news doesn't go unnoticed."

Cadmus had listened intently, saying nothing as he took in what Tychus was saying. He knew well the history of the Rachni Wars and the folly of activating a dormant relay. To break such a rule could endanger the entire galaxy. But when Tychus reported the patrol had been destroyed, his heart began to pound. He flashed on his omni-tool, quickly composing an e-mail to his mother. He had no idea where his father and brother were stationed at the moment. There was a possibility they had been in the patrol.

The turians at the table sat stunned. "They took out a turian patrol fleet?" Viator snarled angrily.

"This will mean war," Paeon projected, concern in his voice.

"It must be pirates," Asheel surmised.

"I don't think so," Venari disagreed. He also had his omni-tool on. He moved his arm into the center of the table. Everyone leaned in to look at the grainy image he'd pulled up, Cadmus the last to do so as he quickly sent his e-mail. The image was of several ships of a make and model he didn't recognize. There was some kind of language on the side he also couldn't identify.

"There is no record of such ships," Joran said. "This must be a secret design. New ships with new weapons most likely."

"I do not agree," Kepel spoke quietly. "This design is wholly unlike any we have ever seen. I think, hatchmate, it is more probable these come from a race unknown."

No one spoke a word as they all stared at the ships. Cadmus breathed in and out slowly, thinking. The last time a dormant relay had been opened, insectoid killers swarmed into the galaxy, taking lives by the millions. If this was a new race, it could be just as lethal. It had already taken out a turian patrol, an act unheard of. The turians had the best military in the entire galaxy. They had been the ones to quash the krogan threat, _begged_ to subdue the krogan threat. If a new race could defeat the best military in the galaxy, what else could it do?

* * *

Cadmus strode quickly down the hall, making for his apartment. News of the unknown ships and the turian patrol was traveling quickly. He could sense the tension in the station, no one quite sure what this meant for the galaxy at large. He kept glancing down at his omni-tool, hoping to hear a beep indicating a new message. He had just reached his door when it finally sounded. He paused before entering and flashed on his tool, rapidly reading the message.

_No need to worry over your father and brother. They were not involved._

It was just like his mother, short and to the point. He felt relief relax his tense muscles. His father and brother were still alive…but other turians _had_ died. Cadmus entered the apartment and made for the screen on the living room wall, intending to make a call. However, when the screen came on, it already announced an incoming call. It seemed Laelia had had the same idea. He answered and Laelia's face appeared, worried and yet composed.

"I assume you've heard," she stated evenly.

"Yes. What do you know?"

"More than they're saying at the moment," Laelia admitted. "Arsenius let me in on some details."

"Tell me."

"The patrol fired on the ships trying to activate the relay. They got all but one. It escaped and they assume warned others as they returned and destroyed the patrol fleet."

"At least their ships can be defeated," Cadmus mused, hoping this meant they didn't have something akin to the Rachni incident on their hands. "Does the Hierarchy know who they are? Were bodies recovered?"

Laelia flared her mandibles. "If they did, they aren't revealing them. I don't think they have any idea who did this to us." She paused, her eyes locking onto Cadmus intensely. "Cadmus, Arsenius has been called up. They've identified the origin of the ships, an apparent colony. They're sending a force to combat it."

"They don't even know what they're facing," Cadmus cautioned. "Why haven't they asked the Council to intervene? It was its law that was broken."

Laelia snorted. "From the way Arsenius describes it, this is seen as an insult. The Hierarchy wants to take care of it themselves, make up for the disgrace of losing the patrol."

Cadmus nodded. Of course, the Hierarchy wouldn't ask the Council for its help. It would be a show of weakness. Usually, Cadmus would have agreed with such action. Turians _could_ take care of themselves. Still, if something like the Rachni was to blame…

"Arsenius thinks the destruction of the fleet was just because we were taken off guard. He swears we'll have the colony in our control in days."

"He who puts on his armor should not boast like he who takes it off," Cadmus quoted an old turian proverb.

Laelia nodded. "I agree. I don't think anyone here wants to consider the possibility that this threat could be more than we can handle."

Cadmus glanced around the screen. "How's Garrus?"

"Sleeping. We're looking forward to your visit next month. I can hardly believe he'll be a year old. I think he misses you."

Cadmus smiled, but didn't really believe it. Garrus seemed confused every time he showed up. It took a week just for him to warm up.

"I've got to go. Mom's here. But I wanted to see you, especially now." Laelia swallowed hard and Cadmus sensed her fear. This incident could be nothing but a blip in turian history or it could have a devastating effect on the entire galaxy.

"Don't worry," he tried to reassure her. "There's no need to worry until we know exactly what we're dealing with."

"I'll try. Take care of yourself, my love." The screen went blank. Cadmus wandered over to the couch and sat. That was the first time Laelia had called him her "love." He suspected the thought of alien attacks brought the term to her lips.

Cadmus' omni-tool beeped. He'd received another message from his mother.

_Correction. They were not involved, but they are now. They are heading to the colony responsible for the destruction of our fleet._

Cadmus turned off his tool and passed his eye over his apartment. He'd made being a cop his lifework. He enjoyed plying his mind to its puzzles and the satisfaction that came from making the galaxy a safer and law-abiding place for all. He'd never coveted the life of a starship officer or an infantryman. But now, knowing his best friend, father and brother were all headed directly into danger, for the first time, he wished he'd chosen a different path and could go into battle along with them. He hated feeling how he did now—helpless to save the galaxy, and more particularly his wife and son, from potentially deadly enemies. When they got to the colony, what would they find? And more importantly, what would its inhabitants _do_ to them?


	14. Victory

Cadmus breathed in and out slowly, appreciating the feeling of a gun stock against his shoulder and the pressure of his finger on a trigger. He peered down the scope at his target, calculating his aim. His finger jerked quickly and a shot fired. He lowered his sniper rifle and smiled grimly—a perfect shot. Actually, this was his eleventh perfect shot. The center of the target had been obliterated. Cadmus reached down, pressing the button to recall the target. He guessed it was time to change it. He could have used an electric target to save himself this trouble, but he'd wanted the satisfaction of seeing something tangible crumble under his prowess.

As Cadmus reached up to replace the thin plastic target for a new one, he mused thoughtfully. It had been three weeks since the Relay 314 incident. Little word had filtered back from the front lines. According to the Hierarchy, orbital bombardment was taking place and the colony was expected to fall soon. However, Cadmus knew that the Hierarchy would have said the same whether they were winning or losing. He'd heard not a word from Arsenius or his father or brother. He'd convinced himself that meant they had their hands busy and not that they were unable to respond, whether because of capture or death.

Cadmus pushed the button sending the target to the back of the range. The Council had maintained its neutrality, refusing to discuss the incident or the turians' reaction to it. It was often this way with the Council. They never took quick action, preferring to let all other ends exhaust themselves before they got involved. He wondered if such extreme caution bothered the turian councilor or if he'd had to set aside his turian ways to hold the post.

Cadmus raised his rifle again, taking aim. To make matters worse, his leave had been canceled. The Council, although staying out of the turians' retaliation, worried over the safety of the Citadel, revoking the leave of most C-Sec officers until the incident had resolved. Garrus would turn one year old this week, and he wouldn't be there. Yearly birthdays were actually not celebrated by turians. Rather, they focused on certain milestones. One year was such a milestone, a celebration that a child had managed to stay alive for a year and had the potential to become a truly productive member of turian society. Cadmus suspected the celebration was a holdover from the long distant past when lack of technology had meant many children never made it to the one year mark. Whatever the reason, a year was reason for jubilation and pride and he would miss this important event in Garrus' life.

Cadmus exhaled and pulled the trigger again, relishing the rifle's kickback. Another perfect shot. _I could have been a soldier. I should be there_. He firmed his jaw. He'd had to force himself not to regret his life choices over the last three weeks. He couldn't do anything for the turian military so he might as well do what he could do—his job. He'd been a bit short with his team this week and Joran had pointed it out in all his innocence. Cadmus had almost rounded on the salarian, but caught himself, realizing his teammate spoke only the truth. He shouldn't be letting this thing eat at him the way it was. So when he'd left work he'd forgone the usual trip to the bar and headed for the shooting range. He'd thought it would help him blow off steam. All it did was remind him he had the capability to shoot down an adversary and his skill could have better served his species against their current enemies.

Cadmus ran his hand along the barrel of the gun, admiring its sleek design. The weapon was almost as long as his arm, large, heavy and powerful. It shouldn't be shooting at plastic targets. He wanted to see real flesh fall beneath its power. Once again, he aimed, fired and hit the center of the target. _This is a useless exercise_, he told himself. Shooting was doing nothing for his mood. It was late. He might as well go home and mope there for all the good this was doing. He took aim one last time, one last shot to call it a night.

Before he could fire, however, another shot rang out, zinging past his face and entering the target at a diagonal. He lowered his rifle and whipped his head around, fury and wrath on the tip of his tongue. He swore whoever had just disregarded range safety would have his butt in Clineas' office in less than a minute's time even though the Executor's office was at least twenty minutes away from the range. He froze, however, when he perceived the identity of the new shooter in the range. "Laelia?" His wife stood a few feet away, smiling broadly, a rifle in her hands.

"Cadmus."

Cadmus found himself stunned, unable to form intelligible words. The fact that she was on station was surprising enough. But he was also shocked to see his wife holding a gun. He'd never seen her shoot or fight and hadn't ever thought of her in that context. To him, she represented the softer side of turians, not weak, just not as regimented. And then, she was wearing a dark blue suit that emphasized every line and curve of her figure, looking svelte and altogether attractive. He didn't know whether to satisfy his urge and undress right in the range or praise her shooting skill or simply inquire why she was there. He finally stammered out a question. "Where did you get the gun?"

Laelia chuckled. "That's how you're going to welcome me back to the Citadel?"

Cadmus ran a talon down one of his mandibles, a nervous gesture. "You know you almost killed me?"

Laelia's mandibles fluttered. "The bullet wasn't as close to you as you think," she objected. "Besides, I never miss my target. My parents may have found me a 'safe' administrative job as they deemed it, but no turian can skip basic training." Laelia hefted the gun over her shoulder. "To tell you the truth, I don't care for guns. They're not my calling. I borrowed it from Viator."

"_He_ knows you're here?"

"I called him when I arrived. I wanted to surprise you. He's with Garrus in the apartment. He told me you were here."

Cadmus shook his head. He set his gun down on a side table and walked up to his wife, gripping her shoulders. "I think you succeeded with the surprise."

Laelia smiled, but it faded quickly and her blue eyes grew serious. "I needed to see you, to be with you, especially now. The tension on Palaven has been wearing."

Cadmus leaned in, pressing his forehead to Laelia's. He brought his hands up and ran them down her mandibles, then to the back of her head. He tilted her head and touched his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. It occurred to him then that there were other ways to release tension and frustration. It took all his self-control not to push her to the floor and suggest they greet each other in an even more intimate way. He reluctantly pulled back to stare down into her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Laelia sucked in an apprehensive breath. "You would have told me to stay."

Cadmus' mandibles tightened. "I would have," he had to agree. _I would have been wrong_.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Laelia apologized, lowering her head. Cadmus put his hand under her chin, raising her eyes back up to meet his.

"I'm not angry."

"Good. Let's go see our son." Laelia pulled on Cadmus' hand and he let himself be led, grateful for a wife who didn't always follow protocol.

* * *

When they entered the apartment, they were greeted with squeals of delight and Viator's deep guffaws. Cadmus smiled at his cousin, wrestling on the floor with a tiny child as his head gear. Garrus' arms were wrapped around Viator's head and gripping the ends of his mandibles. Viator looked up when they entered and reached up to wrench Garrus' hands off his face. He deftly gripped the child under the arms and stood, holding him out at arm's length.

"He's a little go-getter, isn't he?"

Laelia laughed and walked over to Garrus who was now holding out his arms to her. She gathered her child in her arms and instead of wiggling, Garrus settled down immediately, snuggling into his mother's embrace. She turned to Cadmus. "Say hello to your father, Garrus."

The little child stared up tentatively and stammered. "He…Hello."

"He can speak?" Cadmus asked.

"Only a few words. Garrus, who's this?" Laelia raised Garrus up towards Cadmus.

"Da…Da…"

"He knows me," Cadmus said, his voice registering surprise.

"I've shown him pictures of you over the last few months. I wanted him to recognize you on sight. Want to hold him?"

Cadmus hesitated momentarily. He still didn't consider himself good with babies. He always felt awkward, not sure what to do. Still, he wouldn't let cowardice keep him from his fatherly duty. He reached out, but Garrus shrank back towards Laelia. She pulled him back into her chest. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's alright," Cadmus asserted. "You can't blame him. It's not his fault he doesn't see me much." Cadmus once again found himself looking ahead, excited for the day he and his son could actually do something meaningful together. "Have you had dinner?"

Laelia shook her head. "I fed Garrus, but I'm starved."

"Let me get you something," Cadmus insisted, heading to the kitchen.

"Alright," Laelia said. She carried Garrus towards the other side of the apartment. "Let me show you where daddy lives." She glanced back at Cadmus, who smiled again at her. Somehow now that she was here, everything looked brighter. There was something to be said about sharing your life with someone else.

Cadmus heard Viator follow him into the kitchen. "So…surprised?"

Cadmus inclined his head, not looking at his cousin as he set ingredients out on the counter.

"She must love you to come all this way."

Cadmus didn't answer. Their feelings were a private matter for himself and Laelia.

"About love…"

Cadmus now turned his head for a moment to glance at Viator, sensing his cousin was about to tread into waters he didn't want to end up in.

"Look, I know you don't like to talk about stuff like that so…openly, but…I need your advice, cousin."

Cadmus concentrated on mixing the ingredients in front of him. "Go ahead," he spoke grudgingly, trying to be glad Viator had at least wanted to talk to him and not one of his less worthy friends.

"It's about Leea."

Cadmus checked his urge to laugh. "I expected as much."

"You know we've been courting for almost a year."

"Yes."

"Well…recently, she's been saying she wants to leave the Migrant Fleet."

Cadmus ground his teeth, thinking. He'd projected that Viator and Leea would last at the most half a year. He hadn't expected them to actually follow through on a committed relationship. "And…"

Viator blew a harsh breath out his nose. "I don't know if I want her to give up her people for me."

Cadmus was surprised by Viator's statement. He had thought Viator would jump at the chance and encourage his newest female to follow her feelings for him. Could it be Viator truly cared for Leea like he cared for Laelia? "It _would_ be difficult for her to live on the Citadel. It's not made for quarians."

Viator grimaced. "Yeah." Cadmus saw the indecision and pain in his face. "I mentioned that to her. I think she was upset, thinking I didn't want her here."

Cadmus' discomfort had been growing during the conversation. "I'm not the one you should be discussing this with," he said, turning and setting three plates on the table.

"I respect your wisdom," Viator said.

Cadmus walked towards the door to find Laelia. "Then tell your quarian friend that life would be difficult for her and you on this station and she shouldn't give up her fleet." He left the kitchen, glad to get away from his cousin's assumption that he was some kind of expert on relationships. What did he know? It had simply been luck that his marriage had been arranged to an exceptional female.

* * *

Once Garrus had been laid down in the guest room, Cadmus and Laelia retired to bed.

"You've gotten better at cooking," Laelia said as she washed up before lying down.

Cadmus, already stretched out on the bed, chuckled and answered. "Only because I married you. If I hadn't learned from watching you, I'd still be stuck with bachelor meals."

Laelia grinned. "Well, then I've done something good in this marriage."

"I think you've done more good than you know," Cadmus said.

"I've given you a son."

"Yes, there's that…" Cadmus wondered why he couldn't speak sweet platitudes to Laelia. It just didn't feel right. He was better at doing than saying.

Laelia's face became solemn as she stood at the end of the bed. "Have you heard from your father?" she changed the subject.

Cadmus shook his head. "Nor from Arsenius nor Isian."

"I wanted to see you," Laelia said, "But I also wanted to get Garrus out of turian space." He had suspected as much. Laelia's mothering nature desired to protect her offspring. It was an admirable trait. "If we don't win…"

Cadmus slid off the bed, moving over to embrace his wife. "We'll win. We don't have the best military in the galaxy for nothing." He wasn't as sure as he sounded, but he hoped Laelia would believe his bravado. He gently turned her around and began to unzip the back of her suit. "I haven't told you yet how attractive you are in your new suit."

He heard Laelia giggle. "I felt like my mother at first. It's so matronly." The style of the suit, Cadmus now realized, was that of more mature females, those who had children. He guessed Laelia's mother had informed her that it was time to make the transition. Cadmus breathed in, savoring Laelia's scent, a hint of perul, a lavender flower on Palaven.

"You certainly _aren't_ your mother," Cadmus noted. Laelia shrugged out of her jacket and quickly removed her pants. She turned and folded her arms around her husband. Cadmus leaned back onto the bed, ready to forget the trouble their people were in, if only for a night.

* * *

Cadmus rose early, disappointed to find the space next to him empty. Almost immediately, however, his mouth began to water involuntarily as delicious scents wafted into the bedroom. Laelia may have complimented him on his cooking, but she'd apparently decided to make him breakfast. Cadmus didn't mind; in fact, he was glad he could taste _her_ cooking again.

He pushed himself off the bed and quickly jumped into the refresher unit, washing up hurriedly, then dressing in his C-Sec uniform. As he passed into the hallway, he heard someone stirring in the room next door. He opened the door and popped his head in. Garrus was sitting up in a portable crèche. Cadmus walked over and peered down at his son, hesitant. Garrus gazed back at him, as if contemplating if the turian hovering over him was trustworthy. He must have decided in the affirmative as he raised his arms. Cadmus, relieved he hadn't been rejected again, picked Garrus up and carried him around the waist, facing outwards so he could see the apartment as they walked. He moved through the living room and into the kitchen.

"He's up," Cadmus announced to Laelia.

Laelia looked up from the table where she had just set out breakfast. "Perfect timing. I just finished."

As Cadmus sat, Laelia took Garrus from him and sat him in her lap, feeding him some mashed food from a bowl. Garrus ate eagerly, at one point reaching out and digging his whole hand into the bowl, then stuffing the mash into his mouth. Cadmus ate, enjoying the sight of his wife and son in the apartment. He hadn't expected Laelia to come his way for a long while, presuming he'd make the journey to Palaven himself every time he had leave.

"Do you have any plans for the one year celebration?" Cadmus asked.

Laelia shook her head. "I had planned a simple gathering back home with family and friends. Mom wasn't too happy I chose to leave. I asked her to come, but she and dad had duties that kept them home."

"I assume my mother didn't come because of Dad and Isian," Cadmus postulated.

Laelia dipped her head, confirming his assumption.

"You should look up some of your old friends here," Cadmus suggested. "I can also invite teammates."

"That's fine." Laelia wiped Garrus' mouth, then looked over to Cadmus. "You won't mind having to make the speech?"

Cadmus' mandibles flared in and out. "It's what I need to do." To be honest, he hadn't even prepared anything yet, especially since his leave had been canceled. Now he had to come up with something.

"I'm sure whatever you say will be fine," Laelia encouraged. Cadmus knew she could read him like a book, sensing his unease.

Cadmus chewed on his breakfast slowly. He'd enjoyed last night. He didn't want to make Laelia upset, especially on her first full day back on the station in more than a year, but he needed to broach an uncomfortable subject and earlier was better than later. "We should discuss how long you'll be here."

Laelia swallowed and bounced Garrus in her lap, her attention on their son. "I'd like to stay until this is over."

Cadmus leaned back in his chair. "It might not be over for awhile."

Laelia raised her eyes, fixing Cadmus with an intense gaze. "If they kill us there, they might head for Palaven."

"I'm not trying to get rid of you. I like you being here. But we can't let our enemies dictate our lives. Garrus will still need the strength of Palaven in his blood."

"I know," Laelia spoke quickly. "But a month here won't stunt his ability to become pure turian, will it?"

Cadmus breathed out audibly and shook his head.

"Then a month it is," Laelia spoke with finality.

* * *

A week later, Cadmus paced back and forth in his bedroom, mouthing voiceless words and trying to ignore his nerves. Ostensibly, he was going to the bathroom. In reality, he was running through his speech for Garrus' one year celebration one more time. He'd kept it straightforward and simple, feeling that saying less would lead to less embarrassment if he hadn't picked the right words. He hoped when he spoke no one would sense his nervousness. The door opened and Viator stuck his head in.

"You can stop hiding. You're on in about five minutes."

Cadmus sucked in a breath. He could make speeches to coworkers, drone on and on about duty and the responsibilities of C-Sec without batting an eye, but it was wholly different to have a crowd staring at you and hanging on your words, judging if you'd said the right words in the right way.

"I'm coming," he assured Viator, who slipped back out. He examined himself in the full length mirror Laelia had hung on one of the walls when they'd first moved in. His mother would have approved of his choice of clothing. The suit he wore was one she'd purchased for him, a formal affair, dark blue with white and red accents. He stared into his eyes. He was over thirty now, considered a mature turian. Mature turians didn't hide from tradition, he admonished himself. They welcomed it. He pulled himself to his full height and left the bedroom.

As Cadmus entered the living area he scanned the guests. Some of Laelia's Citadel friends had come, his social group from the bars as well. Laelia had pulled together a commendable celebration, seeing to all the needs in less than a week. Cadmus spied Laelia at the front of the living room, Garrus in her arms as usual. He also had been gussied up, wearing a smart infant's suit. Cadmus made his way towards Laelia, catching snatches of conversation as he went. The gathering may have looked tranquil, but it was not. The knowledge that turian troops still waged battle with an unknown enemy permeated the festivities. Most of the discussions had quickly turned that direction. There was still no word from the Hierarchy on what exactly was happening. Cadmus pushed thoughts of his father, Isian and Arsenius out of his mind. This day was for his son and he wouldn't let their enemies take it from him, not even in his mind.

He strode up to Laelia and took his place next to her. Soon he'd have to hush the crowd and speak. He wrung his hands together nervously. _You only have to focus on Garrus_, he reminded himself. He'd talk to his son turian to turian, pretend no one else was in the room.

Laelia eventually handed Garrus over to him. Cadmus held his son with one arm. He was energetic today, wiggling and kicking and at times, babbling. It would be even harder to concentrate on his speech with this one in his arms. _Just do it_, Cadmus commanded himself. He cleared his throat loudly and the conversation died down as all eyes came to rest on him. Cadmus swallowed, then took a preparatory breath, forcing himself to plunge ahead.

"A year ago, our son, Garrus Vakarian, was born." Garrus squealed suddenly and there was a murmur of laughter throughout the room. Cadmus smiled slightly. "I'd like to offer these words to him today, words for his future." Cadmus turned Garrus around, cradling him with his right arm. He looked into his son's gray-blue eyes. _What does the galaxy hold for you?_ he asked silently, surprised at the question that had intruded on the moment. _Will your life be fraught with a fight against the deadly enemies of turian space?_ He gathered his thoughts, recalling his memorized script. "Garrus Vakarian, you will be a turian of greatness, of character and strength. You will honor your name, be known as a stalwart fortress, unyielding in its might. Tradition will be your foundation and you will build duty upon it. You will hold high the identity of turian, becoming its ideal. No one will defeat you because you will never give in. To you, my son, I offer these words. Hear my voice and let them dwell within." Cadmus looked up from his son to find everyone in the room smiling. He assumed that meant his words were well stated. He was about to encourage everyone to go back to their conversation when Tychus' voice spoke out from the back of the room.

"We've taken the colony." The eyes that had been focused on Cadmus now turned to Tychus. Tychus held out his omni-tool. "We've defeated them. We've won."

The room exploded in a torrent of conversation and omni-tools flickered on all over the room, everyone wanting to read the news for himself. Cadmus quickly handed Garrus over to Laelia and flashed on his own tool, tapping away. Laelia leaned into him, staring down with eager eyes. There it was, a message from the Hierarchy for all turians.

_Those responsible for the destruction of our patrol fleet have been thoroughly defeated. They have surrendered this day and are now occupied. From here forth, they will be ruled by the Turian Hierarchy, their colony now ours. We guarantee they will never threaten the galaxy again._

Cadmus slid an arm around Laelia's waist as several victorious shouts sprang from their joyous friends. He saw the wetness in Laelia's eyes before she raised her hand to cover her emotion. Cadmus looked down at Garrus, all hope restored for his future. This day of all days was a good day to be a turian.

* * *

The day after Garrus' one year celebration, the station was atwitter with the revelation of the newly discovered species that had emerged onto the galactic stage. Turian reports said they called themselves humans. Cadmus looked on in interest when Tychus pulled up several photos that had leaked out from the colony now under the Hierarchy's control. He considered most of the aliens to be pale colored, especially compared to turians. Their most notable aspect was a fur that covered the tops of their heads and sometimes ran down their backs. Laelia declared the humans "anemic asari" and Cadmus agreed that they looked a bit like the asari and according to some, also akin to quarians.

The best news for Cadmus, however, was that he'd been contacted by Arsenius and then his father. His father had been involved in the crucial orbital strikes that brought the colony to its knees and his brother had, of course, helped. Arsenius had been on the ground and in direct combat with the aliens. His e-mail read like a strategic assessment of the enemy. He concluded that the humans were militaristically skilled, at times unconventional in their warfare, but no match for a capable adversary. He admitted they hadn't been entirely easy to kill. They had at the least a keen survival sense that shaped their behavior.

A week later, the Hierarchy released video of the defeated aliens, mostly soldiers that had been captured and were still being held to assess their risk factor. He and Laelia had been sitting in the living room, Cadmus pursuing his data pad when he received the notification that the Hierarchy had officially released information on the colony. He sat next to Laelia on the floor as she was playing with Garrus and held the data pad so they could both see.

They watched as the camera panned a large holding area, the aliens milling about and talking quietly. The language sounded so strange, utterly foreign to Cadmus' ears. It sounded like nothing but gibberish.

"They move their faces a lot," Laelia commented.

Cadmus concentrated on their faces. They did indeed. Every part seemed to move. He wondered what different movements indicated in their culture.

Laelia sighed. "I feel…a little sorry for them."

Cadmus lowered the data pad and stared at her. "They put the entire galaxy in danger and killed our people."

Laelia rolled a small ball over to Garrus, who fumbled with it, then bit down on it. "I'm not sorry we defeated them, but it's hard to look at living beings treated like that."

Cadmus shook his head. "You could never be a cop."

Laelia smiled. "I wasn't meant to be. I'm doing exactly what I want—to be a wife and mother."

"Yes, you are," Cadmus said, raising the data pad back up and considering the aliens. "You have to understand they're getting what they deserve. Actions have consequences. They broke the rules, they had to pay."

Laelia stifled a sigh with the palm of her hand and looked away from Cadmus, eyes on Garrus now on his back, observing his hands.

"What is it?" Cadmus asked, sensing something she wasn't saying.

"I don't want to upset you," Laelia said, not looking his direction.

Cadmus' mandibles flexed. "You won't upset me. I never want you to think you can't talk to me."

Laelia turned back then. "Despite what they," here she pointed at the data pad, "put me through, I wonder if they didn't even know what they were doing when they tried to activate the relay."

"It doesn't matter if they knew or not," Cadmus returned. Laelia opened her mouth to reply, but Cadmus held up a hand as he continued to explain. "Laws are put in place to protect the greater good. We don't make exceptions because then the law doesn't do its job. What if they had activated the relay? They could have destroyed us if something like the Rachni came through."

"Yes. That's true," Laelia conceded. "But maybe we could have tried communicating with them first."

Cadmus breathed out derisively. "If we'd done that, it might have been too late. It was right to attack the moment they were caught. Our patrol's decision to attack immediately most likely saved all our lives."

Laelia picked up Garrus who had crawled over to her and set him in her lap. She ran a hand over his small crest. "Of course, you're right." She looked to Cadmus. "Sometimes I'm too soft for a turian, I think."

Cadmus laughed gently and sidled up next to his wife. He placed a tender hand on her shoulder. "I like who you are and I never want you to change."

Laelia brought her own hand up to her shoulder and grasped Cadmus' hand. Cadmus turned his attention to Garrus, looking up at his parents, his mouth open in a smile. With the aliens defeated and his wife and son on station for three more weeks, he felt life couldn't get any better.


	15. Humanity

Cadmus peered at a screen on his office wall, contemplating a green-skinned child occupying one of the precinct interview rooms. He'd rarely seen drell and never a drell child. The child sat absolutely still, eyes blinking every so often, but no more movement than that. The bright light of the room, which didn't seem to bother the child, reflected off his numerous scales. Cadmus glanced back down at the file on his data pad. He'd been tasked with convincing the child to confess to the crimes of another.

The file stated that the child had been found in the company of a known drell assassin. Two weeks earlier, C-Sec had been tipped off that this assassin was headed towards the Citadel. This made perfect sense to Cadmus. Since the incident at the Shrine of the Enkindlers, Cadmus had spent much of his free time researching the various races of the galaxy, wanting to prevent being taken by surprise again. He should have known hanar could kill as he'd discovered it was common for them to employ drell assassins. The Senthriam were an anomaly. Most hanar kept their tentacles clean, acting through drell servants instead. So, since hanar occupied Zakera Ward, Cadmus found it unsurprising a drell assassin would turn up on the station.

Cadmus continued to skim the file. This assassin now appeared to have come to the Citadel to carry out a contracted killing. C-Sec, aware of the possibility, had warned its enforcement to be on the look out. An astute officer had spotted the drell with a sniper rifle secreted on a catwalk overlooking an eatery. A chase had ensued, shots were fired and the assassin had been seriously injured. Currently he was in a hospital and Lazarin had informed Cadmus he wasn't expected to live through the night.

The surprising turn of events had been that the assassin had a child with him. After the assassin had been gunned down, enforcement brought in the child and Lazarin decided that if the assassin couldn't talk, the child could. Lazarin wanted to know who the assassin's target had been and who had hired him. Cadmus stopped reading the file and focused back on the stoic child on screen. He heard his office door swoosh open and light footsteps stroll up to his side.

"You need me?" an expectant and elegant voice asked.

Cadmus turned his head, looking to his right at Denae. "I'd like you to interview this child." He pointed at the screen.

Denae ran her eyes over the child. "Drell," she stated.

Cadmus inclined his head and handed his data pad over to her so she could read the file. After a few moments, Denae looked up. "What do you want to know?"

"Who hired his companion and who was the intended victim."

"He might not talk," Denae warned with a knowing look.

"That's why I'm asking _you_ to conduct the interview." Cadmus knew Tychus would treat the child like a common criminal, practically browbeating him to give up information. A gentler touch was needed. Denae had that ability, and being 244 years old, Cadmus assumed she knew more about drell than anyone else in the precinct.

"You trust my skill too much," Denae muttered, but she moved towards the door, exiting.

Cadmus looked back to the screen. In a few moments, Denae entered and sat across from the drell.

"My name is Denae," the asari began, her tone friendly and kind. The child blinked, but didn't return her greeting. "What's your name?" Denae ventured. The child blinked again, yet gave no answer. Denae placed the data pad on the table and pointed to it. "Do you know what this is?"

For the first time, the child opened his mouth. "Data pad." His voice was soft, silky, almost soothing Cadmus decided.

"Yes, it's a data pad," Denae agreed with a slight smile. "It has a report on it. I know who your father is." She read from the pad. "Quadis Antlia."

"He's not my father," the child spoke quickly.

"Who is he?" Denae asked as if curiosity alone motivated her.

The child blinked rapidly. Cadmus gritted his teeth. The child had caught on. He was smart, Cadmus admitted. The drell didn't reply.

"Do you know what he does? Your friend kills others."

Cadmus observed the child twist his hands under the table. Then, he closed his eyes, muttering a few unintelligible words. Denae reached out, gently touching the child's shoulder. The drell opened his eyes abruptly and violently knocked her hand out of the way. Denae rubbed her wrist and the child seemed suddenly upset.

"I…I'm sorry," he stammered.

"I'm okay," Denae assured him. She leaned back in her chair and brought a hand to her chin as if thinking, then lowered it. "Can you tell me who your friend wanted to hurt?"

The drell swallowed visibly, but still maintained his silence. Cadmus began to feel frustrated. Maybe he _should_ let Tychus take a crack at the child; Denae's motherly exchange was getting nowhere. Denae's next words confounded Cadmus.

"You don't have to be like him, you know." Cadmus recognized sincerity in Denae's tone. "You don't have to be used like he is. You have a choice."

The child gazed up at Denae and spoke so softly Cadmus could hardly hear. "I don't."

Denae leaned in close to the drell's face. "You do. Don't believe them when they say you don't." She stood up and exited the room.

Cadmus turned to his door, awaiting her entry. When the door wooshed open, she crossed over to him, handed his data pad back and crossed her arms over her chest. She sighed. "You won't get anything from him. He's been well trained."

Cadmus moved over to sit behind his desk. "What do you mean?"

"I _knew_ the assassin wasn't his father," Denae revealed. "I suspected as much when the file reported that a drell child had been traveling with a drell assassin. He confirmed my belief as you saw. This seemingly innocent child is an assassin in training."

Cadmus eyed the monitor in disbelief. _This child was sent here to observe, learning to kill from the shadows._

"My guess," Denae went on. "His parents gave him over to the hanar to be a professional at their service."

Cadmus' eyes were still locked on the screen. He couldn't imagine a parent choosing such a career for his child. It was one thing to kill in the line of duty, but another to kill for hire. Cadmus' omni-tool beeped. He pulled his eyes away from the screen and flipped on the tool, scanning the message he'd received. He looked across at Denae. "He's not our problem anymore," he grumbled. "Hanar ambassador's on his way to collect him."

Denae now turned her own attention to the screen. "Don't feel bad. You would never have gotten him to open up and I'm sure you wouldn't have let Tychus batter the truth out of a child."

"No," Cadmus agreed.

"Well, then," Denae said, heading towards the door. "Just hope he changes his path and doesn't end up back in your interrogation room ten years from now as a murderer." The door swished shut behind her.

Cadmus stood, walked over to the screen and turned it off. There was a fine line in the act of killing, he mused. Law was most crucial when the life of another was at stake. No turian would have been tolerated running pell-mell over turian space killing whomever he wanted at will. The hanar, Cadmus concluded, were at heart cowards. He'd learned from their history that they seldom attacked openly, preferring to use spies and saboteurs. The fact that they made another species do it for them heightened his disgust.

Cadmus made his way back to his desk, pulling up a new case file. The turians in their most recent conflict had attacked when law was broken. They had engaged in killing as a legitimate response. Cadmus saw the drell child in his mind's eye. Some day Garrus would be as old as this child, but _his_ ability to take a life would be controlled by law and duty.

Thinking of Garrus brought back the memory of Laelia's departure a week ago. He'd hated to see her go, although he knew it was right and kept his reluctance to himself. The last month had passed pleasantly and too fast. Still, Cadmus was glad he'd been able to send Laelia and Garrus back home without fear.

Since the human colony, called Shanxi by the aliens, had been subdued, life had returned to normal. General interest in the humans had waned now that they were under the charge of the turians who wouldn't allow them to come any farther into the galaxy. Continued interest at this point only came from various archaeologists and anthropologists, Cadmus' sister one of them, who were petitioning the Hierarchy to let them visit Shanxi to research the humans. Cadmus didn't care one iota about studying humans. All that mattered to him was that their military had been thoroughly defeated. Arsenius assured him the bulk of the human navy had been destroyed and any other rogue ships would be caught by turian patrols if they tried to flee the system. Arsenius also hinted that Shanxi's databases held a wealth of information on the humans' militaristic capabilities, though the language was still being worked out by turian linguists so the amount of information at this time was limited.

Cadmus' omni-tool beeped and he turned it on. The file on the assassin had been updated. The assassin had died in the hospital and the child that had accompanied him would soon be headed back to Kahje on the hanar ambassador's private ship. It irked him a little that he hadn't been able to get what Lazarin wanted out of a child, but the child hadn't done anything wrong and the ambassador had the right according to Citadel policy to ask the Council to intervene. The Council had chosen to let the child return home and Cadmus dutifully submitted to their authority. He pushed the incident out of his mind, sliding his talon over his data pad, already puzzling out his next case.

* * *

_Cadmus sat with Laelia and Garrus at the edge of a lake, enjoying the view. Laelia picked up a rock, pointing out insects that scurried away to Garrus who giggled with a child's joy. Garrus turned. "Dad, look!" Cadmus, unfazed by Garrus' newfound ability to speak clearly, glanced down, expecting to see tiny bugs running every which way. But the bugs didn't look like bugs. Cadmus leaned over, peering closely and saw they were little pale creatures. He let one climb up onto a talon so he could examine it more closely. He realized then that it was a miniscule human. He laughed, squished it with another talon and let it fall to the ground. Garrus was now jumping up and down on the little humans, his mouth open and chiming with a nice sing song tone. Actually, the chiming was getting annoying. He tried to tell his son to stop but he couldn't find his voice. The chiming went on and on and Cadmus found his nerves fraying, wanting it to stop… stop…Stop!_

Cadmus opened his eyes, squinting and groaning. He felt heavy, like a load of steel had been fused to his muscles. He worked to think straight. Images of a lakeside and Garrus chiming flashed back through his mind. _I was dreaming, _he told himself. _A ridiculous dream._ Cadmus rarely recalled his dreams. Only if he awoke during one would he know he'd even dreamed at all. Now, he logically comprehended that the dream had contained only those things that had concerned him most over the last month—his wife, his son and alien humans. The chiming, however, had been real. He heard it sounding from the living room, an indication he was receiving a visual message. Whoever was sending it obviously wasn't going to stop until he answered.

Cadmus stumbled out of bed, throwing a shirt on as he'd been sleeping only in pajama pants. He was grateful he would only be seen by whoever was on the other end of the screen from the waist up. It might be a work call. As he wandered into the living room, he chided himself over his fogginess. It wouldn't be a work call. Any urgent C-Sec business would come through on his omni-tool. He wiped sleep out of his eyes and palmed the panel next to the screen. The name Laelia Soranus blinked brightly in the dark room. Cadmus' blood raced as he slapped the panel again, initiating the call. Laelia's face appeared, scared and tense.

"What's wrong? Is Garrus alright?" Cadmus asked, thinking their son the only reason his wife would call him in the dead of night.

"He's fine," Laelia spoke, her voice trembling.

"What then?"

"The humans attacked again."

Cadmus shook his head trying to clear any lingering fuzziness from sleep away. "The humans on the colony?"

"No," Laelia clarified, "Others. In ships. Cadmus, they destroyed several of our transports. We've fled the colony."

"What?" Cadmus asked incredulously. Turians never backed down. He knew the phrase the galaxy used to describe their military courage: You'll only see a turian's back once he's dead. "Wait. I've got to get my tool, see what the Hierarchy's saying." He turned on his heel but was stopped by Laelia's next words.

"The Hierarchy isn't saying anything. It's too ashamed," she spat bitterly.

Cadmus came back to the screen. "How do you know then?"

"You tasked Arsenius with watching over your family. He called his wife, then me to warn us. I'm at my parents right now."

Cadmus touched a talon to his head, thinking. "Did Arsenius say they were headed to Palaven?"

"Not yet. They haven't observed any human ships following them. But, Cadmus…it's only a matter of time. These humans…they're hostile, aggressive…they'll come for us." Laelia put her hands to her eyes, keeping tears at bay that threatened to break her. Cadmus knew if Laelia had been on her own, she wouldn't have been so flustered. But she had a child that depended on her. What threatened their people now threatened offspring she was duty bound to protect.

"You're turian," Cadmus spoke, infusing confidence into his voice, trying to quell his wife's fear. "You'll face this with strength and poise."

Laelia slowly nodded. She pulled herself to her full height. "Yes…I will."

"They may have thrown us off their backwater planet, but I guarantee the Hierarchy won't let them near our homeworld. They'll mobilize every ship in the fleet. You're well protected."

"Yes…Yes…" Laelia murmured.

"Don't give in. For me if no one else."

"I won't. I promise I won't."

"Laelia!" another voice rang out. "Garrus is calling for you!" Cadmus recognized his mother-in-law's high pitch.

"Call me later, please," Laelia pleaded.

Cadmus wanted to reach through the screen and pull Laelia across time and space so he could envelop her in his arms and banish her terror. Instead, he looked into her eyes and issued an order. "Show Garrus what it means to be strong in the face of adversity."

"I will."

"Laelia!" the voice called again.

"Coming!" Laelia put her hand out to the screen. "I love you." The screen went blank.

Cadmus rushed to the bedroom, strapping on his omni-tool and bringing it to life. No word from the Hierarchy, but the news had leaked through the outlets of other races. The fact that the turians had been routed and fled was inducing panic. Cadmus sat down on the bed. He wouldn't be able to sleep he knew. He stood again abruptly and donned his C-Sec uniform. He didn't want to be stuck at home. As he paced through the living room and out the apartment door, he recalled his strange dream. He found himself wishing he _was_ a giant and could squash humans with his talons by the hundreds.

Cadmus had almost reached the elevator when an announcement from the Hierarchy came through on his omni-tool. _The Turian Hierarchy has declared war on human space. Victory will be ours at any cost._ Cadmus felt his mandibles stiffen and his jaw tighten. For the first time in a thousand years, his people were officially at war with another species. _We'll dine on the death of our enemies_, Cadmus proclaimed fiercely, the ancient turian declaration a war cry ringing in his heart if not from his lips.

* * *

Cadmus was the first to arrive at the office. He tried to work on some cases, but found it next to impossible to keep his mind on them. Others began to trickle in and conversation inevitably led to the Hierarchy and its preparations for war. Asheel had heard from a cousin already ferrying with his unit to a ship. Tychus' sister and brother, soldiers in the infantry, were also mobilizing. Joran spouted off rumors from all over the galaxy regarding the turians' defeat. Cadmus had to step in and order him to be silent when he perceived Tychus' anger about to become physical.

Lazarin finally appeared, all duty even in the midst of the news, commanding them to get to work and informing them that _none_ of them would be relieved of duty to go home. It turned out Gratus had already handed in his resignation, declaring his intent to go back to Palaven and join the fight. As the morning passed on, word came that turian C-Sec officers were flooding the Council with requests to leave C-Sec to defend their space. The Council, however, wasn't answering any of them. In fact, the Council had holed itself up in its chambers, allowing no one to enter or leave.

Cadmus spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon trying to pretend away his anger and trepidation. He'd sent a message to his mother and received an expected reply that his father and brother were once again in on the action. And again, he had to tell himself that he had done nothing wrong by becoming a cop and not a soldier.

As the day wound down, Cadmus dreaded going back to his apartment. Laelia would expect him to call, but he had nothing to encourage her with. If she asked him to come home, he couldn't, not when Lazarin had made it clear no one on the team was leaving the station. Thirty minutes before his shift ended, Cadmus' door swooshed open. Viator stepped through, still in full armor. Cadmus guessed he'd just come off his beat.

"I can't believe it," Viator grumbled, collapsing into a chair.

Cadmus' mandibles flared. "We have to, cousin."

"These humans…How powerful _are_ they? Rachni powerful?"

"Maybe," Cadmus said, pushing back in his chair.

"How can you be so _calm_?" Viator asked disapprovingly.

Cadmus ground his jaw. "If you think I'm calm, it's because you can't read my thoughts."

Viator sighed loudly. "I don't know how you do it. How do you keep it all in?"

"What good is it if I wring my hands and curse the humans all over the Citadel? Will that bring them to their knees?"

Viator shook his head. "No. But doing so would make _me_ feel better."

"If you want to know the truth, I've been gunning humans down all morning in here." Cadmus tapped his forehead.

"Me, too," Viator concurred. "I thought about going to the Council, leaving the Citadel, but my boss wouldn't allow it."

Cadmus took a long breath. "I won't say the thought didn't cross my mind, but I understand. Detective Cerula won't let us either. The fact is, we signed on with the Citadel and we have an obligation to protect this station. We can't break our oath even at the worst of times."

"Don't you worry about Laelia?" Viator inquired.

Cadmus pulled himself up in his chair, sitting tall. "I have faith in our people. The humans may throw us out of their colony, but we won't let them take our space. We'll kill every last human before that happens."

Viator's eyes burned grimly. "We'd better."

"We _will_."

Cadmus' office door opened again, this time admitting Asheel. "Did you hear about the Council?" the turian officer asked breathlessly as if he'd run a marathon just to reach them.

"No," Cadmus returned, head cocked, fearing what had happened now.

"They've left the Citadel on the Destiny Ascension. Everyone thinks they're headed to the colony, Shanxi."

Cadmus sat back in his chair again, bringing his talons up to his chin and linking them.

"It's about time the Citadel Fleet got involved," Viator declared.

"I don't think the Fleet's with them," Asheel said. "They're saying they left alone."

"What are they planning to do then?"

Cadmus spoke quietly. "Stop a devastating war before it starts."

"You mean…broker _peace_?" Viator asked, looking back to his cousin.

Cadmus brought his hands down from his chin and gripped the arms of his chair. "Two powerful militaries clashing against one another, I am sure, they view as a threat to the galaxy."

"So we don't have the right to take down those that would defy us?" Viator questioned in a contemptuous tone.

Cadmus' mandibles moved in and out swiftly. "Not if the Council intervenes and is successful."

"What if the humans attack the Council?" Asheel asked.

Cadmus answered ferociously. "If they do that, they'll find the majority of the galaxy at their throats, ready to spill their blood and drink it down till they're drained dry."

* * *

As it turned out, the Council didn't fail and it wasn't attacked. Within a day of its arrival at Shanxi, word filtered back that peace had been made between the turians and humans. Cadmus didn't know quite how to feel about that. For his family's sake, he was glad a war had been avoided. Laelia had expressed relief. Cadmus' pride, on the other hand, regretted his people were forbidden to take down those who had challenged them. But Cadmus knew his place—to obey his superiors, including the Citadel Council. He therefore fell into accord with the Council's wishes, upholding their peace as best for the galaxy. Other turians, such as Viator, were not so easily placated, especially because part of the peace treaty required the turians to pay reparations to the humans. The Council reasoned that the humans had been innocent in the affair, ignorantly trying to activate the relay, devoid of any hostile intent. An entire human colony had been devastated and the Council found it only right that the turians rectify their "error." This, of course, grated on Cadmus' evaluation of the situation, but once again, he fell in line.

Viator, on the other hand, spent the evening railing in Cadmus' apartment, cursing the Council, the humans and even the Hierarchy that had agreed to the terms. "It's not right! How could the Hierarchy agree to that? The humans should be paying _us_. They forced us to act in the first place."

Cadmus sucked in a breath. He'd tried multiple times to explain this to Viator—the Council's point-of-view, their desire to avoid war, their understanding that the humans had been ignorant, which was true as far as it went.

"I don't know how Councilor Manius lives with himself!" Viator concluded, slumping down on the couch. "He's turned on us."

Cadmus didn't envy the turian councilor. He had earned the ire of his people. Numerous turian manifestos were skewering him and Cadmus guessed his in-box was full of hate and death threats. Cadmus spoke carefully. "He has a duty to the Council as we have to C-Sec."

Viator snorted. "He has a duty to _us_ first!"

"It isn't easy sometimes when your loyalties are divided," Cadmus said knowingly.

"Certainly there's a hierarchy of loyalty?" Viator asserted.

"Unfortunately, that isn't defined, is it?"

Viator groused under his breath for a few moments, then fixed his gaze pointedly on Cadmus. "C-Sec was created by turians and is run by turians. To join C-Sec doesn't violate one's loyalty. To become a councilor, to let other races determine your policies…It's not right."

Cadmus suddenly remembered an early conversation he'd had with Decimus Mehrkuri. Well, less a conversation, more a lecture. Decimus had told him that without law, the Citadel would end up just like Omega, a hive of criminal activity. Citadel law bound multiple races with different views together. Take away the law and chaos would reign. The galaxy was the same, Cadmus now realized. Without the Council and its rule, there would be no regulation in the galaxy. Chaos would rule the day and, he assumed, embroil the galaxy in wars it might never recover from.

Cadmus looked over at Viator, still waiting for a response. How could he express such thoughts to his bolder and less amenable cousin? "If we did not agree to be ruled by the Council, every race would claim its own laws supreme. Bitter war would follow, war that could destroy the entire galaxy."

Viator sighed loudly. "I hate your logic, cousin." Viator punched one of the couch cushions. "Maybe we shouldn't _be _part of the galaxy."

Cadmus felt alarm rise within him. This was dangerous talk and had to be stopped now. "You need humility, Viator," Cadmus demanded authoritatively. "Rebellion is worse than submitting to the Council's rule. It could end in your death." Cadmus wasn't joking. Turians who challenged the Hierarchy's decisions in an organized manner didn't last long. He had no wish to see Viator at the center of a growing rebellion.

Viator eyed Cadmus, his jaw flexing, but he spoke coolly. "I'm not going to do something like that. I assure you."

Cadmus stared back at Viator, the tension between them palpable. He didn't know if Viator was offended that he'd implied his cousin could rebel or if he was upset his thoughts had gone that direction and Cadmus had seen through them. Viator eventually smiled and laughed, releasing the tension in the room.

"No, I wouldn't do that. Especially now." He looked at Cadmus with a twinkle in his eye, the mischievousness Cadmus knew so well.

"Why?" Cadmus asked suspiciously.

"I've wanted to tell you, but I was going to wait for the right time. But…well…Leea and I are engaged now. We've set a date for the wedding here on the Citadel."

Cadmus felt like he'd just been kicked in the gut. Last time they'd talked about the quarian, he'd thought Viator had decided to tell her not to give up her fleet for him. What had gone wrong?

Viator rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I hope you'll come. You don't look too happy."

"What changed?" Cadmus managed to ask evenly.

"This thing with the humans. Made me think that I don't want to face the galaxy alone. I figured, who cares if we come from different cultures. We love each other. That's enough."

Cadmus ran through a lecture he could drop on Viator, another hashing out of how absurd it was to hook up with a quarian you couldn't get physical with without a sterile room and tons of antibiotics, how their backgrounds were so different they were bound for years of conflict, how their relationship would most likely end in divorce. And then the zinger, how being a true turian, which Viator seemed to think of ultimate importance, meant you produced more true turians. A turian and quarian had no hope of providing turian heirs, at least, not biologically.

Cadmus raised a hand to his chin and forced himself to control the trembling in his mandibles. What did it matter if Viator married a quarian? It was odd, unheard of, foolish. But Viator was Viator and as Cadmus gazed on his cousin, he knew no amount of lecturing would change his mind. His cousin would do what his cousin would do…and he'd have to learn the hard way.

"I'll come," Cadmus stated shortly.

Viator smiled lightly. "But you won't like it."

"I didn't say that," Cadmus objected quietly.

"You didn't have to," Viator returned.

"Maybe you're moving too fast."

"How so?"

"Humans. I mean, you haven't tried one of their females, yet, have you?"

Viator guffawed loudly, Cadmus' quip clearly unexpected. "I'd never go there, cousin, not in a hundred years."

Cadmus smiled. No turian ever would, he surmised. Not even in a millennium.

* * *

As Cadmus climbed into bed at the end of the day, he had trouble shutting down his mind. Thoughts of peace with humans, turian reparations, philosophical conversations about law and Viator's engagement wouldn't die down. He hated an onslaught like this. He liked his mind to be organized, logical, facing an issue step by step rather than all at once. He also hated change. He knew that everything had changed when the humans had been made aware of the rest of the galactic community. How they would affect the galaxy, he didn't know, but he was sure whatever they did would be unavoidable.

His omni-tool sounded. He reached to the night side stand, flashing it on and reading a short message. _Come see me before work in the morning. We need to talk. Decimus._

Cadmus set the tool down and rolled onto his back. Just what he needed. A talk with his old boss. So many crises had come to his plate this last week, he didn't know if he could handle one more. He suspected if Decimus wanted him, another crisis was pending.

He closed his eyes, pushing away thoughts of everything but Laelia and Garrus and wishing he could relive the month they'd been on the station. Things had been simple and pleasant then—humans defeated, work challenging, family together. It almost tempted him to give up C-Sec and go home…almost, but not quite.

* * *

Cadmus strode into his old precinct. The salarian receptionist waved, and nodded his head towards the door. Cadmus acknowledged the welcome with his own nod and headed towards Decimus' office. Cadmus reflected as he walked down the hall that he was glad to be in Zakera, but this precinct had been the crucial foundation of his life as a C-Sec officer, even with all its trials.

He tapped the panel on Decmius' door and heard his old chief's deep voice call out, "Enter." He stepped inside and Decimus looked up.

"Cadmus. Sit down."

Cadmus walked over to the desk and sat. He would have exchanged wrist grips, but Decimus had a data pad in his hand and seemed thoroughly engrossed in it. He waited patiently and soon, Decimus placed the pad on his desk. His old chief looked across at him.

"Trying times we live in, don't we?"

Cadmus nodded once. "Yes, sir."

Decimus stared scrutinizingly at Cadmus. Cadmus didn't flinch, just stared back. Soon, Decimus smiled broadly. "Zakera did what I thought it would to you. You've grown up, detective. A leader in your own right."

Cadmus accepted the estimation without emotion, though inside he concurred with Decimus' assessment.

"Your praises are being sung all over C-Sec. Bet you didn't know that."

Cadmus did know it. It bothered him only because it made him even more of a celebrity. He wanted to be respected, but he didn't want to be worshiped.

"I called Lazarin to find out how accurate they were, gossiping tongues and all." Decimus looked down at the data pad. "He confirms you're one of the best officers to ever come on this station. I knew that already, of course, but it's good to be thorough."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered slightly, his pride finally showing on his countenance.

"You have a right to be proud. You don't have to hide it. Though hiding it makes you even more respectable."

Cadmus began to wonder why Decimus called him here. It couldn't be just to regale him with how great he was, the turians' gift to C-Sec.

"I wanted to talk with you, Cadmus, because I'm going to need you, particularly now."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes, sensing trouble. "What is it, sir?"

"Clineas is retiring," Decimus explained shortly. "Aching bones finally got to him. He knows he can't keep up anymore."

Cadmus kept silent, though he felt like saying, _and this concerns me how…_

"He'll leave in a month and then the new Executor will take his place."

Cadmus felt his heart thumping. "Who is it?"

"You're looking at him."

Cadmus smiled slowly. Executor Mehrkuri. It had a ring to it. "How did you manage _that_?"

Decimus laughed loudly. "My record speaks for itself, but I do have my advocates. Point is, all of C-Sec's going to be my responsibility. I want the right people in the right places and you're one of those."

Cadmus leaned back in his chair. "How so?"

"These humans," Decimus said, "will change us to the core. I can guarantee you they'll come here. Maybe three years at the most until we see them show up, but they'll come. They're powerful and proud and a whole new galaxy's just opened up to them. They'll want in on the action. And we'll need to be ready for them."

"What do you want me to do?" Cadmus asked.

"Study them. Learn all you can about them. Know them inside and out."

Cadmus flexed a skeptical mandible. "Do you have…certain disastrous plans for them?"

Decimus stared, then laughed. "I guess I can't fault you for asking the question with half our brethren up in arms over the peace treaty. No. I don't want revenge. Revenge is a waste of time, not to mention dishonorable. Revenge passes the courts and tramples law underfoot."

Cadmus ground his teeth. He shouldn't have thought Decimus would go against the Council's decisions. He should have known his former chief better.

"What I want is my force to be ready for them. The good and the bad. Some of them, they'll probably be innocent and foolish, playing like naive children in a galaxy they don't understand. Others, they'll try to take advantage, make the galaxy their tool for advancement and power." Cadmus marveled at Decimus' analysis. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Decimus went on. "When it comes down to it, I've found most organic races the same. From what I've seen, humans won't be any different and the only way we'll be ready for their criminal elements is to know them better than they know themselves."

Cadmus sucked in a determined breath. "I'll be ready for them."

Decimus leaned back in his seat. "Good. I'm counting on you, Cadmus. I see all of Zakera in your hands in the future. With that kind of responsibility, you'll need to be ready to do it right…"

"Or not do it at all," Cadmus finished.

Decimus grinned. "Exactly."

Cadmus stood, now reaching out to grip his superior's wrist. He swore to himself he'd be ready, ready to save ignorant humans from themselves and punish the sins of those who chose a lesser path.

* * *

Author's Note: The phrase "You'll only see a turian's back once he's dead," is from the ME writers. And...if you think someone appeared in this chapter that will one day occupy the Normandy (not Garrus), then you're right ;-)


	16. Fatherhood

"Dad, have you seen humans?"

Cadmus paused in the middle of tapping out a response to a work related e-mail. He glanced up at Garrus who was sitting up straight at the kitchen table, his blue-gray eyes full of curiosity. "Not directly," he replied succinctly, then went back to the e-mail on his data pad.

"Did Cousin Viator see them?"

Cadmus sighed and looked back up. "Yes."

"He did! Tell me!"

Cadmus drew in a long breath. Why was Garrus even interested in humans? He understood why older turians concerned themselves with the species—humans were still the newbies in the galaxy. But Garrus hadn't even been cognizant of their arrival on the galactic stage. Why did a four year old care so much about them? Still, Cadmus looked into Garrus' eager, expectant face and answered. "Not many humans have made it to the Citadel yet. Some officials meet with the Council from time to time. There are wanderers as well. Cousin Viator met one of these…Arrested him, really."

Garrus' eyes blazed with delight. "What did he do? Did Cousin Viator shoot him?"

Cadmus shook his head, both to answer in the negative and to express nonverbally his disapproval of Garrus' glee over shooting a suspect like having to draw your gun was part of playing a game. "He didn't do anything to get excited over. He tried to swim in the Citadel lakes. Enforcement chased him from the Presidium to Bachjret. Cousin Viator caught him." Cadmus kept himself from smiling. He and Viator had actually had a long laugh over it as Viator described the incident. The human had been scared to his boots Viator was going to kill him. He had a healthy fear of turians. He'd at first tried to deny his actions, but the fact that he was fully clothed and sopping wet gave him away. Viator hauled him in. Turned out the human had been drunk, trying out some asari alcohol he hadn't realized was potent stuff for a human system. The human spent a night sleeping it off, paid a fine and was released. Viator's evaluation after having dealt with a human one on one for the first time was that humans behaved with incoherence and naïveté, though he conceded this estimation only went so far when Cadmus pointed out that the human's actions were most certainly solely due to the alcohol. If humans acted this way normally, Cadmus surmised, they never would have defeated the turians at Shanxi. "There was no shooting," Cadmus concluded. "He paid a fine and left the Citadel."

"Oh," Garrus said, sounding disappointed and looking back down at his own data pad.

Cadmus made to start tapping again, but let his gaze linger a little longer on his son. Due to his three month absences, every time he returned to Palaven it seemed Garrus had grown by leaps and bounds. Laelia said he had an agile, logical mind and an insatiable desire for knowledge. He'd poured himself into his studies, even though his reading skills weren't the best. He learned mainly by asking her questions. He also, Laelia noted, idolized his father, viewing Cadmus' life as an exciting adventure story set amongst the exotic species of the galaxy.

Cadmus heard movement behind him, then a light hand touched his shoulder. He looked up to see Laelia. "Arsenius is here," she announced.

Garrus popped up from his seat and rushed out of the room. Laelia laughed as she watched him go. Cadmus knew Garrus had become good friends with Arsenius' son Bresian who had been born a few months after Garrus.

Cadmus went to stand, but then out of curiosity, reached out and slid Garrus' data pad over, wondering what so occupied his son's attention. "Hm…" he grunted. "Human military ships."

Laelia leaned over to peer at the data pad. "So, he's on human ones now."

Cadmus turned back to her. "What came before?"

Laelia smiled. "He likes ships of all kinds. He knows all the parts of every ship he studies. It doesn't matter that he can't read the descriptions. I only have to tell him the names of the parts and he remembers them."

Cadmus stared at the human ship. He'd studied up on the humans, reading new material as it became available. He'd examined their history, their culture, their psychology and especially their problems. He'd read some about their ships, but he hadn't concentrated on them. Recently, their government had occupied his attention. In the last couple months, the humans had formed a united parliament. Their Systems Alliance was growing in influence and if Cadmus knew one thing from his studies it was that humans evidenced strong ambition. They were making inroads into the galaxy, too fast for some, especially the batarians who were their neighbors. Both species had their sights set on the same area of the galaxy: the Skyllian Verge. How exactly their conflicting interests would play out, no one could guess. The Council was content to let the humans and batarians work out their issues themselves. At least, Cadmus thought, the conflict kept the humans busy and out of everyone else's business.

"Come greet Arsenius and Thelie," Laelia encouraged, taking Cadmus' hand and pulling him up from his seat. Cadmus briefly put his arm around her waist once he stood, appreciating her frame and admiring the purple suit she wore. It reflected off her blue eyes, giving them a slight lavender tint.

"We couldn't spend our first full day of my leave alone?" he asked.

Laelia sent him a chastising look. "You know Arsenius is heading out tomorrow. You should see him."

Cadmus sighed and let her go. "I will. But tonight…"

"Tonight will be ours," Laelia promised, following Cadmus out of the kitchen.

* * *

Cadmus entered their vast living area to the sight of Arsenius pulling apart his seven year old twins, Calix and Erebus, by their cowls. They were arguing over something, but Arsenius' forceful pull and threatening eyes silenced them.

"We're in someone else's home. You _will_ maintain decorum or you'll answer to me when we return home. Do you understand?" The twins nodded and grumbled submittance. Arsenius' six year old daughter, Gyia, stood smilingly shyly next to her brothers. Bresien and Garrus had retreated to a corner, watching Arsenius' wrath descend on the twins from a safe distance.

Arsenius turned and noticed Cadmus had appeared. "Cadmus! Welcome back!" he called out, crossing the room to grip his friend's wrists in a hearty greeting.

"It's good to see you," Cadmus returned. He eyed the twins humorously.

Arsenius lifted a solitary mandible. "My children offer their apologies." He glanced back with a furious look and both Calix and Erebus stumbled over embarrassed apologies.

"Why don't we let the children go play upstairs," Laelia suggested.

"Can we, dad?" Calix blurted out.

Arsenius sighed and waved a hand. "Go." There was the sound of pattering feet as the children ran and soon thumped up the stairs.

Thelie, who had been silent during Arsenius' scolding, gaped helplessly at Cadmus and Laelia. "They listen to their father more than me."

"You need to be more forceful," Arsenius said, taking a seat as Cadmus gestured to a couch. Thelie sat down next to her husband as Cadmus and Laelia followed suit, occupying another sofa across from their friends.

Thelie let out a frustrated breath. "Yes, well, it's easy for you to say so. You don't mother them day in and out, do you?"

Laelia glanced uncomfortably at Cadmus and then back to their visitors. Cadmus knew she didn't approve of how openly Arsenius and his wife discussed their issues. Laelia was above all a private female. She would never air their dirty laundry in public. For that matter, Cadmus knew he wouldn't either. He ran an evaluative eye over Thelie. She was unremarkable from his point-of-view, a run of the mill gray turian female, no tattoos same as Laelia. As far as he knew, she had been a dutiful wife for Arsenius. He'd married two years before Cadmus and at the time proclaimed he loved Thelie from the moment he met her.

"I'm not home enough," Arsenius grumbled under his breath. Cadmus wasn't clear if this meant he blamed himself for his children's actions or he disparaged his wife's control over his home. Perhaps he meant both.

"Where are you headed this time?" Cadmus asked, steering the conversation in a less contentious direction.

"Syglar. It's had some trouble with pirates recently, flying in and out of the system. What they're looking for, no one knows. We're going to either terrify them into leaving or disable them and get some answers."

"I haven't congratulated you yet on commanding your own ship," Cadmus noted. Two months earlier, Arsenius had earned the title of captain, now head of the turian ship Allegiance by Fire.

"It's nice," Arsenius commented. "I have my own quarters now. No more bunking with fifty other comrades." He laughed. "Not that it was all bad. We had some good times. But it's a reward simply to get some peace and quiet."

"When are they going to make you Primarch?" Cadmus half-teased.

Arsenius smiled. "Don't push me too fast. I might never be Primarch."

"I know you will," Cadmus asserted confidently.

Arsenius' mandibles moved in and out in a turian shrug. "Perhaps."

"If he's Primarch, we'll have to move," Thelie pouted.

Arsenius glanced at her. "It would be an honor."

"Oh, it would," Thelie agreed, trying to sound happy, but failing. Cadmus found himself all the more thankful for Laelia's ability to keep their home running when he was away and her loyalty to his career.

"The children seem well," Laelia mentioned quietly.

Thelie nodded and sighed. "They keep me busy."

"The twins need more discipline," Arsenius declared again.

Thelie tightened her mandibles. "I know. But they goad each other on and Gyia often goes along with them just to get their attention. Bresien is usually easier to handle." Thelie linked her talons and placed them in her lap. "If you think about it, I'm one combatant facing four on the mat."

Arsenius laughed then and put a hand on Thelie's knee. "My dear, when you face odds like those, that's the time to plan your strategy, buckle down and face the enemy head on."

Thelie turned her heard to Arsenius and smiled coyly. "_You're_ the tactician. Why don't you come up with the plan and I'll enforce it."

"I will," Arsenius assured.

Thelie looked over at Laelia. "What about Garrus? He seems…quiet."

Laelia sat up straight. Her eyes were polite, but Cadmus sensed defensiveness in her posture. "He's only reserved. He considers a situation before he acts on it."

"A good trait to have," Arsenius validated. "Much like his father." His eyes twinkled at Cadmus.

"He hardly gives me any trouble," Laelia went on, pride lacing her tone.

"Well, of course he doesn't," Thelie returned dismissively. "He's only one child and he only has you. Who does he have to argue with?"

Cadmus watched Laelia bristle at this, though she hid her emotion well. "He has his moments," Laelia spoke slowly, "But he's always a joy for me."

"Well, enjoy it while you can," Thelie came back. She looked to Arsenius. "Four is hard enough. Five, I can't even imagine."

Cadmus looked to Arsenius who grinned. "Five? I assume you mean…"

Arsenius nodded. "Due in nine months."

Cadmus felt Laelia sink back into the couch. He assessed her from his peripheral vision. Her mandibles had been pulled tightly into her jaw. She was staring at Thelie. For all Thelie's posturing and complaining about her children, she was now smiling at Arsenius, her hand resting lightly on her abdomen. Cadmus checked his own desire to sigh and simply reached a hand down beside his left thigh, covering Laelia's hand, an encouraging gesture. Laelia didn't have to say a word; Cadmus read her feelings. They had been trying for a while to have a second child. Just as with Garrus, they had faced trouble, though this trouble was compounded by his long absences. Laelia's fertile days had to come at the right moment for them to even give it a go. Nothing had come to fruition yet. He could sense the jealously in Laelia that Thelie, so "encumbered" with children, had been so fortunate to conceive again and she, with only one, had been denied this pleasure.

"Congratulations," Cadmus said. He put pressure on Laelia's hand.

"Yes, congratulations," she said softly with as much kindness as she could muster.

"I hope you can arrange time to come home," Cadmus said.

Arsenius turned his gaze from Thelie to his friend. "I'll try, though I can't guarantee it. The higher up you go, the less time they give you."

"You'd think with your service they'd give you _more_ time with your family," Thelie whined.

Arsenius patted her knee again. "You know as well as I that our people come before our family."

"Yes. Of course," Thelie conceded.

Cadmus was about to propose they move outdoors to the patio where they would partake in lunch but was stalled when Erebus' tattling voice suddenly rang out from the stairs. "Dad! Dad! Garrus is killing Calix!"

"What?" Laelia cried out, bolting up from the couch and rushing to the stairs. Cadmus followed on her heels and heard Arsenius and Thelie coming behind. What in the galaxy had his son done?

* * *

Laelia reached the upstairs combat room a few steps before Cadmus. He heard her sharp intake of breath. As he stepped into the room himself, he saw Bresian on one side of the room, his back to Calix, who was pummeling him with his fists. Bresien was leaning over a huddled figure whom Cadmus perceived to be Garrus. Gyia was screaming, "Stop, Calix! Stop!" From Cadmus' perspective, it was Calix, not Garrus, that was doing all the "killing."

Arsenius immediately stalked over to his sons, grabbing Calix by the back of his cowl and throwing him to the ground. Bresien collapsed to the floor with a sigh of relief. Next to him, Garrus looked across the room at his mother, fear in his eyes.

"To your feet! Now!" Arsenius commanded Calix. Calix stood, still seething, his breath coming out in rasps. It was then Cadmus noticed a mess of dark blue blood on Calix's lip and chin. Cadmus strode over to Garrus and gripped his son's right shoulder, pulling him to his feet as well. If he and Calix had gotten in a fight, it was time to own up to it.

"Explain this!" Arsenius demanded.

"Bresien punched me in the nose!" Calix shouted out, pointing at his youngest brother.

Arsenius glared at Bresien who had managed to stand, but hunched over, rubbing his back. "He wanted to hurt Garrus."

Arsenius turned his angry gaze back to Calix, but Erebus had sidled in next to his twin and took up his defense. "Garrus cheated! He doesn't know the rules of pugna at all! He tried to choke Calix to death!"

Cadmus peered down at his son, prompting him to explain his own part in the matter. "I _do_ know the rules…mostly." His mandibles fluttered and he glanced up at his father. Cadmus sent him a disapproving look and Garrus dipped his head, staring at his feet. Cadmus, although not happy Garrus had been exposed as ignorant in pugna, admitted to himself that the fact Cadmus had even challenged a child so much bigger than he was impressive…foolhardy, but impressive nonetheless.

"Garrus is three years your junior," Arsenius rebuked angrily. "You can't assume he knows all the rules. And even if he doesn't, that is no excuse for brothers to treat each other in such a manner. Calix, Erebus, you shame this family with your tempers. And you…" Arsenius rounded on Bresien, "Breaking your brother's nose isn't the answer."

"But…"

"No excuses. All of you, downstairs!" Arsenius commanded. He pushed Calix and Erebus in front of him and grabbed Bresien by the arm, dragging him along. Gyia made to follow, but Arsenius growled out, "Not you, Gyia. You're the only innocent in this whole affair as I can tell." As Arsenius passed Thelie, he ground out, "Get Gyia down to the kitchen. Get a rag for Calix's nose." When Arsenius reached the door, he cast a glimpse at Cadmus, his face proclaiming, "your turn." Cadmus realized his friend had given him space to deal with his own offspring. The room now contained only the Vakarian family.

Laelia had knelt down in front of Garrus, talking to him softly. Cadmus drew in a preparatory breath. "Tell me what happened," he asked firmly.

Laelia looked up incredulously. "Cadmus, he's scared, can't this wait for…"

Cadmus sent her a severe look that proclaimed "let me deal with my son my way." Laelia acquiesced and stood, but maintained her position next to Garrus' side. Cadmus didn't try to read his wife's eyes. Whether she was unhappy or not, Garrus needed to be dealt with.

Garrus gulped visibly, but craned his neck and met his father's eyes. Cadmus appreciated Garrus' ability to meet his fate head on. In fact, his respect calmed Cadmus' agitated emotions. He spoke evenly. "I want _your_ version."

Garrus' mandibles flexed and he muttered quietly, "Yes, father…I…We were playing. Calix asked me to fight. I did."

Cadmus was amused at the utter simplicity of Garrus' explanation. What had he expected out of a four year old? "Did you choke Calix?"

"I don't know," Garrus said. He wasn't lying, Cadmus could tell.

"In pugna, you are allowed to use any wrestling technique to force your opponent to the ground. You _cannot_ choke him. I mean, you cannot grab him around the neck and squeeze. Did you do so?"

Garrus slowly nodded. "I think…yes…maybe."

"How did you manage to reach his neck anyway?" Cadmus asked aloud, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I jumped."

Cadmus hid the smile that threatened to burst forth on his face. He imagined Calix shocked when a child he thought he could easily beat at pugna lunged upwards and ended up with his arms around his neck. Cadmus took another breath. "Of course, it does not matter _how_ you did it. You should not have done it. And it does not matter what Captain Fedorian makes of the matter. Ignorance of the rules is no excuse. You will humble yourself before Calix and make your apology."

"But, I didn't do anything wrong…" Garrus began to protest.

"You _did_ do something wrong. You broke the rules. You should not have fought Calix unless you knew all the rules. It is obvious you were unsure of your knowledge regarding them. You entered into this fight foolishly." Garrus bowed his head, clearly ashamed, but he said nothing. Cadmus finished his lecture. "Whether unintentional or not, you must make amends. There will be no argument. Down the stairs. Now."

Garrus plodded to the door of the room. Cadmus followed and as he reached the threshold, he briefly glanced back at his wife. Laelia's eyes burned. He could guess at her thoughts. He hoped she'd simply keep them to herself.

* * *

Fortunately, the children displayed their resiliency. Garrus apologized, as did Calix, and Bresien also made a clean breast of it, publicly admitting his wrong in striking his brother. Within thirty minutes, all was forgotten and the children, who had eaten their lunches, played in the garden, acting out ancient stories of valor.

Laelia and Thelie eventually retreated inside, some feminine issue focusing their attention, leaving Cadmus alone with his best friend on the patio, each full of a good lunch.

"_I _should apologize for my children," Arsenius muttered glumly, sitting back in his chair and staring far across the lawn at the little bodies rushing to and fro all over the grass.

Cadmus chuckled. "Please don't. It's too odd, you and I, fathers with children. Who knew we would ever _have_ these problems?"

Arsenius grinned momentarily. "Indeed." His smile faded and he sucked in a breath. "It isn't as easy being a father as I thought it would be."

Cadmus turned his head to his friend. Arsenius had excelled at whatever he did, a natural at all his endeavors. He sensed in his friend's statement disappointment in himself. Cadmus remembered how Arsenius had encouraged him at his wedding and then the day Garrus was born. He didn't consider himself one for encouraging words, but he decided to try. "Children have their own wild spirits. Taming them is a noble job, if not a simple one."

Arsenius laughed softly. "_Mine_ certainly are wild enough." He paused a moment, then spoke again, his gaze turning seriously on Cadmus. "Do you ever regret choosing the Citadel?"

Cadmus linked his talons, considering his answer. After a time, he responded, looking Arsenius straight in the eye. "Even if I have, it does not matter. I made a commitment, one I will not break."

"Yes, commitment. The foundation of our people. Glory to Palaven." Arsenius spoke with conviction. Cadmus saw his confidence visibly return.

"How _is_ the Citadel?" Arsenius asked, switching gears. "Humans any trouble there, yet?"

Cadmus knew how much Arsenius disliked humans. He, as well as many others who fought during the Relay 314 Incident, hadn't yet let go of the fact another race had beaten them. Though, he, like those same others, claimed if the Council hadn't stepped in, the humans would have paid dearly. Over the last three years, Cadmus' own feelings had steadied. He thought of the humans with a detective's factual mind. From his studies he knew that humans were full of pride, ambition and gumption. This led them one of two ways—to acts of great courage or acts of great transgression. He had been surprised to discover many stories of heroic humans, those who held values similar to turians. And yet, humanity was also plagued with crime—gangs running rampant in several of their large cities, illegal drugs a common problem and violent crime continual. Most didn't exhibit the self-control turians prized.

"No trouble," Cadmus answered Arsenius' question. "At least, none to speak of. There still aren't many there yet."

"Humph," Arsenius breathed out. "They'll show up by the droves soon. Word is they want an embassy and they want it now. From what I've seen, humans think the fact that they exist means they get whatever they want when they want it."

Cadmus nodded, agreeing. That much he knew was true. Their history was littered with rebellion and strife. Humans for the most part constantly warred against any civil authority. At times he'd wondered how they even managed to accomplish anything. He'd come to the conclusion that the only way humanity achieved anything was because they easily attached to heroes. They liked personalities more than governments, their loyalties tied to individuals over communities. That was fine as long as the hero was worthy. But if the hero were criminal, Cadmus found his power later punished those who had lauded him. "They seem to understand only themselves and their ways."

"Champion them, you mean," Arsenius returned. "They're not unlike the batarians."

Cadmus' mandibles moved in and out. "Perhaps. But they aren't _as_ criminal."

Arsenius' eyes narrowed. "Do I sense…compassion?"

Cadmus' mouth opened in a smile. "Not compassion, just facts. I've read their history. Some of their heroes parallel ours."

Arsenius guffawed. "You must be teasing me."

Cadmus shook his head.

Arsenius tightened his jaw. "Look…I know you're…fair. Objective. But no hero they could produce would be as honored as ours."

"I didn't mean to imply they should be honored as ours. I simply point out that their ambition at times is placed in good men." Arsenius opened his mouth in protest, but Cadmus raised a hand, silencing him. "However, these are rare. The humans are far more likely to be motivated by selfish desire than care for the galaxy. You are right. Their history reveals their ego. Most seek their own gain over the good of their people."

"So…essentially we agree," Arsenius concluded, relaxing back into his seat.

"Yes," Cadmus confirmed.

Arsenius' eyes skimmed the lawn, then focused on the children now in one corner, conspiring at some play acting. "I need someone like you on my ship, Cadmus."

"You're trying to recruit me?" Cadmus asked jokingly.

Arsenius let out a low chuckle. "I couldn't get you to leave the Citadel. I know that. No, what I mean is, I need someone to speak with me about personal matters, probe my inner thoughts. I have to maintain my command at all times. I don't have such an outlet. It's wearing at times."

Cadmus considered Arsenius' sudden personal admission. During the Relay 314 Incident, he'd desired to be at Arsenius' side, to have chosen the life of a soldier rather than that of a detective. But now, perceiving the loneliness in Arsenius' tone, he found himself all the more thankful for his own career. He wasn't bound to a ship and C-Sec provided camaraderie. He thought of Viator, Paeon, Asheel, Tychus, Venari, Kepel and Joran, friends that he went out with almost nightly. He could pursue duty and esteem and at the same time socialize. He wasn't lonely…at least, most of the time. What neither he nor Arsenius could change was their lack of family. Like it or not, they had to depend on their wives to hold down the homefront so they could pursue their turian duties with honor and distinction.

* * *

Cadmus climbed into bed, tired from the day, even though most of it had been spent with their friends. The incident in the combat room as well as Laelia's tension regarding Thelie's pregnancy had worn down the day. Concerning Garrus, Cadmus had decided tomorrow he would begin instructing his son in the combat arts. As Laelia turned out the light and slid in next to him, he declared his intentions. "I've got a month to bring Garrus up to speed regarding combat. We start tomorrow. I want him up early." An exasperated breath cut the air next to him. "You don't approve?" he asked, annoyance in his voice.

"I _want_ you to spend time with him, but don't make it punishment for today."

"It's not punishment," Cadmus argued, speaking to the dark ceiling. "He should know the rules by now."

"He's four, Cadmus."

"Yes, and I knew the rules by the age of three."

He heard rustling as Laelia turned to her side. He took a breath and turned as well. His wife had propped her head up on her hand, her elbow resting on the bed. "You could recite them at three? I don't believe you."

Cadmus sat up and turned to her shadowed form. "I _knew_ them. I didn't say I could recite them perfectly. I _knew_ combat. I'd watched my father and brother enough to learn the rules."

Laelia sighed again. "Garrus isn't you. He hasn't picked them up like that."

"You said you only had to tell him the parts of ships once and he knew them," Cadmus challenged.

"He's interested in ships. They hold his attention easily."

"He doesn't like combat?"

Laelia turned and lay back down forcefully. "He doesn't hate it, but it isn't what he loves."

Cadmus lay back as well. He gathered his thoughts, then spoke again. "He's turian. He'll learn combat. He can read about his ships all day, but he needs to take the time to learn combat. Haven't you ever taught him?"

Laelia didn't answer and Cadmus heard a trembling intake of breath. She was clearly upset. Then it occurred to him what he'd implied.

"I didn't mean to imply you had failed as a mother." He heard a stifled sob. He'd hurt her, even if inadvertently. He reached out a hand and touched her arm. "You're a good mother."

"I've taught him…but…" Laelia mumbled quietly, sniffling to control her tears. "I want him to be who he's supposed to be. He loves ships. Let him enjoy his own interests."

"I don't want to take those from him," Cadmus assured her. "But I do want him to be what he's supposed to be: turian. Combat is necessary. He'll need the skills long before basic training and then even more so."

Laelia was silent again. Cadmus sensed something deeper. He rolled over and wrapped an arm around her waist. "What is it? Tell me."

"It's…wrong of me…"

"What?"

"Thelie…"

Ah…Thelie. "We'll have a second child."

"Don't promise me!" Laelia uttered vehemently. "You can't guarantee that. We had a hard enough time conceiving Garrus."

Cadmus didn't know how to answer her. Females were so passionate, Laelia even more so. She wore her formal veneer well, but she let him into her heart and soul and right now, her heart grieved for what she'd been denied.

Laelia spoke again, her voice hushed. "I truly hated her, Cadmus. For one moment, I hated her."

Cadmus swallowed. "That's understandable."

"Maybe," Laelia spoke, "but it's horribly wrong."

Cadmus ran a tender hand over her abdomen, trying to give her what comfort he could. "You'll be fertile in…a week?"

"Yes," Laelia whispered.

"Don't give up hope. Not yet."

Laelia didn't respond, but Cadmus heard no sound of tears. He let go of her waist and turned back over, closing his eyes, hoping sleep would descend quickly, the tension of the day dissolving into blissful rest.

"Tell him Cousin Viator is good at combat," Laelia advised.

Cadmus opened his eyes and turned his head to see Laelia looking at him from her pillow. "Why?"

"He adores Viator. It will motivate him."

Cadmus nodded slowly. "Alright. Good, then."

Laelia closed her eyes. Cadmus stared at the ceiling. His cousin, impulsive and often too bold, Viator, who had married a quarian and unexpectedly still remained married, _he_ was adored by Garrus. As Cadmus heard Laelia's deep breaths indicating she'd fallen asleep, he contemplated a troubled question. Why wasn't the fact his own father was good at combat reason enough to motivate his son?

* * *

"If you put your hand here," Cadmus instructed, laying his hand along Garrus' upper back, "you can flip your opponent with your feet here." Cadmus stood squarely in front of his son, feet touching.

"Okay," Garrus said.

"But watch out for your side. You're exposed then."

Garrus nodded dutifully. Cadmus stepped back. In the last three weeks he'd taught Garrus all he knew regarding combat, that is, all Garrus could understand at this time. In the beginning, he'd been surprised to discover how tiny Garrus truly was. Cadmus dwarfed his son in height. He realized all he could do at the moment was explain combat moves. Garrus certainly couldn't try the moves out on his father. He wouldn't get a chance to try them until a friend his size came over.

Cadmus discerned Garrus' antsiness. It had been a long morning of review. Cadmus was sure his son wanted to get back to his ships, both reading and models. Still, Cadmus had to admit he'd been a good sport. Laelia had been right. Viator had motivated Garrus in the beginning, though over time, his interest in Viator's combat exploits waned. Gradually, Cadmus sensed Garrus' motivation shift as a desire to please him took over. He did all that Cadmus asked of him without complaint or grumbling.

"That's all for today," Cadmus announced, deciding they could end early since Garrus had been so amenable.

Garrus didn't say anything, but made quickly for the door. Before he could reach it, however, Cadmus called out to him. "Did you know I won an award for combat?"

Garrus turned, his eyes intensely curious. "You did?"

Cadmus nodded. "Best in my first unit. I had to fight forty-nine others to earn it."

"Wow." Garrus paced back over to him, gazing on Cadmus with admiration.

"The last was the most difficult," Cadmus said, enjoying the way Garrus was staring at him, thoroughly taken. "He was a full foot taller than me. Dark with white tattoos covering the entirety of his face. I swear his eyes were red, too. He almost won."

"What happened?" Garrus asked breathlessly.

Cadmus smiled. "Caught him with the move I just taught you. I was on my knees, he made to ram his elbow into my back. I gathered all the strength I had, stood up and in one movement had him on the floor."

Garrus didn't speak, just stared, eyes wide, mouth open.

"Do you know why we turians learn combat, Garrus?"

Garrus closed his mouth a moment, then answered. "Kill our enemy."

"It can help us do that, yes. But why do we learn so young? What does combat teach us?" Cadmus could tell Garrus was trying to think of an answer. He finally looked up and his mandibles moved in and out in a shrug. "It teaches us to hone our bodies _and_ our minds. We keep ourselves fit and increase agility of thought. We follow its rules so we make submitting ourselves to authority and structure part of our nature. Do you understand?"

Garrus' mandibles fluttered in agitation. "Uh…I don't know."

Cadmus sighed. _You can only expect so much out of a four year old_, he reminded himself, something Laelia had told him more than once over the last few weeks. "Yes, well, you _will_ understand…someday."

"Can I go play now?" Garrus asked.

Cadmus resisted the urge to shake his head in disappointment. He'd been Garrus' hero for only a moment, then childhood rushed in. "Yes, go." Garrus bolted for the door and Cadmus heard his light steps plunking down the stairs. Laelia said Garrus idolized him and his life on the Citadel. Perhaps he did, in a child's simple way, idolizing now and then when something shiny didn't occupy his attention. Ah, well, Cadmus comforted himself. Garrus would grow and become a logical, reasoned being, one that would respect his father for the turian he was. _Give him time to grow_, Cadmus encouraged himself.

"Dad! Dad!" Garrus' panicked voice interrupted Cadmus' thoughts. Cadmus rushed to the top of the stairs and saw Garrus down below. "Mom! She's sick."

Cadmus took the steps two at a time, landing at the bottom in less than two seconds. He followed Garrus' small form into the kitchen where Laelia was bracing herself with both arms at the counter. "Cadmus! Hold me!" Laelia managed to cry out in between halting breaths. Cadmus hastened to her side, just in time for her to collapse into his arms, her full weight bearing down on him as she fainted.

"Garrus!" Cadmus called out. "Can you use the comm?"

Garrus nodded.

"Call Dr. Tayan. Now!"

Garrus dashed from the room, balled up fists rubbing his eyes, forcing back fearful tears.

* * *

Dr. Tayan arrived in ten minutes time. Cadmus had carried Laelia to their bed, wrapping her in the sheets. She breathed normally, but she hadn't woken. Dr. Tayan spent more than twenty minutes with her, then emerged from the room. Cadmus had kept Garrus company outside, wanting to spare his son anything that might take place that resulted in the loss of his mother. Cadmus maintained his dignity in front of Garrus, but his mind fretted. He remembered when Laelia had gotten pregnant with Garrus and he'd had to rush to the hospital, afraid she had left him alone. And then she'd bled so much when Garrus was born, he didn't know if she'd be saved. And now, she lay in bed, sick and unconscious. For the third time, he worried that his wife wouldn't make it, unless…

"She's awake and she's fine," Dr. Tayan reported cheerfully. "She needs to take better care of her health. Eat more regularly. I've e-mailed you instructions. You can go in."

Garrus bounded into the room, shouting "Mom!" at the top of his lungs. Cadmus tarried, looking warily at the doctor. "Are we going to be seeing more of you around here?"

Hints of a smile played around the doctor's jaw as she ignored Cadmus' question. "Your wife would like to see you."

Cadmus strolled into the room then, already knowing what Laelia would say and wondering if he was ready for this. Laelia, although pale, beamed up from the bed. Garrus lay next to her, his head on her shoulder.

"Mom's okay," Garrus announced happily.

Cadmus sat down next to Garrus. "Indeed. She seems…quite ecstatic." Cadmus eyed Laelia knowingly. Laelia grinned back. "I don't think I need to ask."

"You know," Laelia spoke with laughter in her voice.

"Who couldn't read your face? It's obvious."

"What is it?" Garrus asked. He sat up and looked critically over at Laelia. "What?"

Laelia put her hand out to her son and patted his shoulder. "You're going to have a sibling."

"A brother?" Garrus asked expectantly.

"Or a sister," Laelia spoke, looking back to Cadmus.

"Sisters aren't as fun Bresien said," Garrus avowed.

Cadmus stifled a laugh. "Vakarians are good enough for anyone, males _or_ females."

"I guess," Garrus conceded doubtfully.

Laelia's joyous laughter filled the room. Cadmus smiled at her, but inside felt uneasiness build. Another child. He would be a father times two. He had a hard enough time parenting one from a distance? How would he handle two?


	17. Visit

Cadmus checked the time again on his omni-tool. If everything went according to schedule, Laelia should be on station in less than an hour. She hadn't been back to the Citadel since she'd fled there when Garrus turned one year old. Now she was flying in with their son, almost seven, and daughter, two and a half, in tow. Cadmus flipped to the one family photo he kept on his tool. Laelia sat upright in bed, her daughter in her arms. Cadmus and Garrus stood to her side, Cadmus looking down at his wife and Garrus stretching his neck out to behold his sister. It was a good picture—good because Laelia was smiling in it. There hadn't been much smiling that month of leave. Even now Laelia struggled emotionally at times.

As he contemplated the photo, Cadmus couldn't help but relive the day their daughter had been born. Laelia had labored for over thirty hours. Cadmus hated that he wasn't by her side. He'd heard that more turian fathers were insisting they be present for the births of their children, but he came from a conventional family and didn't have the will to buck tradition. That, and he had his hands full keeping Garrus company and juggling his fretting in-laws. Eventually, a nurse arrived and just as before directed Cadmus to a room where he met his daughter for the first time alone. However, unlike when Garrus was born, Cadmus now knew how to handle an infant. He took the paste the nurse handed him, picked up his daughter and cradled her against his arm, feeding her. He even laughed as her first reaction to her father was to scowl as if he were a servant late with her meal. She had bright blue eyes, just like her mother. She didn't cry, just swallowed down the paste like a trooper. After a time, he'd asked if Garrus could come in and meet her. They let him in and Garrus stood silently for a while, observing his new sibling with a bit of skepticism. "You _sure_ I'll learn to like her?" Cadmus had chuckled lowly and replied, "I'm ordering you to like her." Garrus sighed. "I'll try."

The relaxed moment of family bonding Cadmus and Garrus enjoyed soon descended into sorrow. The doctor had entered the room, asked Garrus to leave, and when he had, straight up announced to Cadmus that Laelia had bled too much. They'd had no choice but to perform a hysterectomy to save her life. Cadmus' heart had sunk then, and he unconsciously pulled his daughter closer into his chest. There would be no more children. Personally, he had little problem with that. He'd never predetermined the size of his family. Laelia, however, would be devastated. He hurt for her. Laelia was in a recovery room and would wake in a few hours. The doctor gave Cadmus the choice of telling Laelia the news himself or opting for her to do it. Cadmus chose himself. To do anything less would be cowardly.

When Laelia had awoken, he'd come to her room alone with their daughter. Laelia, although heavy on medication, had still managed to gush and awe over their daughter. Just as with Garrus, they didn't have a name chosen. The reason this time, however, was the sheer number of names Laelia liked. She hadn't been able to narrow them down to one. Cadmus had skimmed her list, putting forward a few he liked, but none had been decided upon prior to arriving at the hospital. When Cadmus inquired, Laelia still wasn't sure and in such a medicated fog, Cadmus didn't press her. At length, when Cadmus perceived her mind had cleared, he'd laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and told her he must deliver some bad news. Laelia at first worried something was wrong with their new baby and was relieved when he confirmed that the baby's examination revealed perfect health. Cadmus had plunged ahead, telling his wife she could never have any more biological children.

Cadmus sucked in a sharp breath at his desk. He would forever remember the shock and then the pain that etched Laelia's face. In a moment that should have been full of happiness as his wife admired her female child, grief filled the hour. Laelia cried and he'd held her, his chest becoming damp with her tears. He didn't have comforting words for her. He knew any words he could muster wouldn't alleviate her hurt. She needed to feel the pain and pass through it. When she'd exhausted herself, she'd asked him to pull up the list of names on his omni-tool. He'd done so and she'd stared at them, blinking back residual tears. Then she'd pointed and declared, "Solana." Cadmus read the meaning of the name on the list. He glanced back at her. "Why?" Laelia had held her head high. "She's the only hope I have now." Cadmus gazed on their daughter, now Solana Vakarian. Solana. Sunlight. She was the light in the midst of his wife's dark misery.

And so it was that Laelia had smiled little for his month of leave. Recovery had been slow. Cadmus was grateful for his in-laws and mother who ran the household and tended to the baby and Garrus. It had been a long month. But finally, at the end of his leave, this picture had been taken. Cadmus met his wife's eyes in the photo, reading in them resilience and peace. Laelia had shown her turian colors. She had chosen to stand tall when circumstances threatened to bring her down.

Cadmus glanced back at the time again. _You just checked_, he chided himself. He didn't know why he was on tenterhooks. It wasn't like Laelia had never been to the Citadel. Maybe he was just excited to see his family again after several months. He turned back to his work, flipping through files and cases. Once or twice he made a call to team members, giving them instructions. He remained distracted until an e-mail came in from Lazarin. His mandibles twitched in interest. The case concerned humans. Even with their numbers steadily increasing on the Citadel, he hadn't personally conducted a case involving humans. Few of them frequented Zakera yet. He surmised this was due to the batarians—most on station lived in his ward. He didn't think humans wanted to be near the species that hated them even more than the turians. Many turians continued to hold a grudge against humans, but maintained themselves when in their presence. Batarians, on the other hand, tended to exhibit outright prejudice and sometimes violence.

Lazarin detailed a complaint from a human that had originated in the Presidium. The human, a Zachary Carter, had invaded a precinct in a panic, claiming he'd overheard two batarians discussing a plan for large scale payback against humans on the Citadel. The report noted Carter had been terribly upset and started cursing at a turian enforcement officer that he wasn't being taken seriously and C-Sec didn't care about humans at all and they'd be perfectly happy if the batarians killed every last one of them. He'd been so hysterical he'd been arrested and confined for disorderly conduct, though only to calm him down. Lazarin then noted, in a grumbling tone that Cadmus could hear even in an e-mail, that the Presidium precinct had passed the case their way when Carter yelled about the batarians' base of operations being in Zakera. In point of fact, the Presidium precinct didn't want to deal with an unruly human and had shoved the case off to Zakera. Once in Zakera, the case had fled down the line and ended up on Lazarin's desk. Lazarin concluded that he considered giving Gratus the case but Gratus had an intense hatred of humans and putting him on it would more than likely result in more tarnishing of C-Sec in the human's eyes. Knowing Cadmus could be objective, he'd set the case in his hands.

Cadmus checked the time on his omni-tool again. Laelia should be on station in ten minutes. His team didn't have time now to conduct an interview with the human. He read on the report that the human had been released from custody but an address in Tayseri Ward was provided. He decided he'd leave the interview for the morning. Lazarin noted he didn't need to worry too much about it. In Lazarin's opinion, the human was either lying or mentally unstable. Batarians didn't walk around the Presidium broadcasting their plans. They were sneakier than that. Cadmus shut down his work station and headed out the door, hoping his family would be in the apartment when he arrived.

* * *

Cadmus wasn't disappointed. The moment his apartment door slid open he was greeted with a soft feminine voice crying out, "Cadmus!" and an energetic small voice calling out, "Dad!" Cadmus smiled as Laelia came towards him, Solana in her arms. She stopped in front of him and grinned, her eyes bright. Garrus, still dwarfed by his father's height, peered up at him eagerly. Cadmus greeted Laelia with a hand on her shoulder and a look that proclaimed how glad he was to see her. He then gripped wrists with Garrus, welcoming his son to the Citadel. Solana chattered out, "Dad…dad…dad…Hold my," and stretched out her arms towards Cadmus. Laelia set their daughter in his arms. The little turian wiggled and twisted so she could look at her daddy's face. "Daddy big," she proclaimed. Cadmus couldn't help but chuckle, especially because Laelia laughed aloud and answered Solana with "Yes, he _is_ big."

"Dad!" Garrus shouted again. "The Citadel is awesome!"

Cadmus looked down at his son. "What have you seen?"

"Well, just the docking bay and the Presidium, but the aliens, dad—wow!"

Cadmus hadn't realized how impressive the Citadel would be to Garrus. In person, Garrus had seen volus and he'd met Leea vas Silhah when Viator went home on leave once. Other than that, Garrus' interaction with different races had been limited. Laelia put a hand on Garrus' shoulder. "He was most impressed with their ships. He could have stayed at the docks for hours, but I insisted we head to the apartment right after we disembarked."

"Yeah," Garrus spoke dejectedly.

"How about we go back to the docking bays after dinner?" Cadmus suggested.

"Can we?" Garrus asked, his tone perking up again.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Laelia concurred, then asked, "What _is_ for dinner?"

"Uh…I've got ingredients. I thought that…"

Laelia laughed softly. "You thought maybe I'd deign to create something with them?"

Cadmus nodded once. Laelia only smiled and headed to the kitchen. Cadmus walked over to the couch, sat down and gently placed Solana on the floor. The baby turian toddled a few steps, then tripped and rolled. She scrunched up her nose and pushed herself to her feet. Cadmus observed her with pride. Solana had been stubborn from the time she was born. She had the makings of a strong turian. He could picture her on dangerous missions with a rifle in hand in the future.

"Dad?" Garrus sat down on the couch next to Cadmus.

"Yes?"

"Could I…uh…Could I…"

"Don't equivocate. Be direct, Garrus."

"Yes, sir. Could I see your office?"

Cadmus flexed his mandibles in surprise. "I thought the docks were your concern."

"I want to go to the docks, but I want to see where you work, too."

Cadmus considered. He hadn't thought about taking Garrus to his work, but it wouldn't be a bad idea for his son to meet the team and get a taste for the work of a cop. "Tomorrow morning, you can come with me." Garrus' eyes lit up. "You won't be able to stay, but I can show you the precinct."

"Okay."

A chime sounded. Cadmus stood and walked over to the door, pushing the panel to open it. It slid aside, revealing Viator and Leea.

"Cousin Viator!" Garrus cried out, running up to the door.

Viator grinned and thrust his arms out picking up Garrus and tossing him in the air the minute Garrus reached him. He set him back on the floor and punched his shoulder. "How'd you get so big?"

Garrus smiled. "Growing, I guess."

Viator laughed heartily, Garrus' simple and accurate answer tickling him. Leea spoke next, her accented voice filtering through her suit. "I brought you dinner so you wouldn't have to cook."

Cadmus gestured to the kitchen. "Laelia just went in to prepare dinner. You can try and stop her." Leea headed into the kitchen. Cadmus followed her with his eyes. Viator and Leea hadn't come over much. Viator hung out with the social group at the bar, but other than that they rarely saw each other. Even after six years, Cadmus found he still wasn't used to the fact his cousin had married a quarian.

* * *

"That was some of the best turian food I have ever eaten," Laelia professed with satisfaction. She smiled at Leea. Whether Leea smiled back or not, Cadmus couldn't tell, but her voice sounded pleased.

"Thank you for the compliment," Leea returned.

"What did you think, Cadmus?" Viator asked, his tone mischievous and arrogant.

Cadmus breathed in slowly. "It _was_ excellent."

Viator looked to Leea. "Told you he'd have to admit you were a good cook."

Leea bowed her head in what Cadmus assumed was humility.

"She studied up on turian dishes months before we were married. First time she cooked for me, I was a little worried, but…" Viator gestured to one of the dishes, "you see I had nothing to be concerned over."

_At least Viator married someone who eats dextro_, Cadmus thought to himself. Indeed, Leea had mastered the art of turian cooking. Despite his ambiguity towards her, he had none towards her food. She _had_ excelled.

"Can we go to the docks now?" Garrus asked.

Cadmus eyed Viator. "He wants to see the ships. Do you want to come along?"

"Sure," Viator agreed, then looked to his wife.

Leea waved a hand. "Go ahead. I have supplies to organize anyway."

"You can stay awhile," Laelia proposed. Cadmus widened his eyes in surprise. She wanted to spend time with Leea?

"I can stay for a time," Leea consented.

"Well, then," Cadmus spoke, standing up. "Let's get going."

Garrus popped up from his seat and rushed out of the kitchen, Cadmus and Viator following at a pace too slow for the enthusiastic young turian. He was bouncing up and down on his toes waiting for them to reach the door when they entered the living room.

"Patience, Garrus," Cadmus instructed. "Maintain your self-control."

Garrus stopped bouncing, but his eyes continued to shine with excitement. The door opened and Garrus bounded down the hall. Viator regarded Cadmus. "He can't help it. All those ships in one place—this is probably his dream come true."

Cadmus nodded at Viator. "I know that. Still, it doesn't hurt to learn how to control yourself at a young age. Makes it easier when you get older."

"Are you suggesting I never grew up?" Viator asked humorously.

Cadmus stalled in the hall. "I didn't mean to imply that."

Viator chuckled. "I'm joking, Cadmus."

Cadmus shook his head. Viator and his teasing. Problem was, he did concur with Viator's assessment. Viator's self-control was limited. At times, his emotions ruled over his logic. They reached the elevator. Garrus had already called it. Within seconds it appeared admitting the two elder turians and their young charge.

Cadmus decided they would walk to the docks as it would afford Garrus more opportunity to observe the Citadel. As they walked Garrus asked question after question. Usually Viator answered in his animated way, clearly enjoying Garrus' insatiable curiosity. Now and then Cadmus inserted his own comments, though his were far more factual in nature. When they reached the docks, Garrus' eyes gleamed and he moved quickly from window to window describing the various capabilities of each ship from the size of its engines to its weapons proficiency. After they had paced the row of currently docked ships, Garrus turned to Viator.

"Cousin Viator, what's a quarian ship like inside?"

Viator moved his mandibles quickly in and out. "I've never been on one."

"But, Cousin Leea…" Garrus protested in confusion.

"Quarians don't appreciate other aliens checking out their ships," Viator explained, leaning against a rail in front of a window filled with an asari freighter.

"Why?"

"They're afraid someone might sabotage their homes."

"But you'd never do that."

"Cousin Leea knows that," Viator explained, "Her people…not so much."

"But…"

"Garrus," Cadmus interrupted, drawing his son's attention as he swiveled his head to look at his father. "Who lives on Palaven?"

Garrus cocked his head. "Turians…and volus."

"And who else?"

"No one else."

"Why?"

Garrus thought for a second, then shook his head. "I don't know."

"We have built up trust with the volus. They are a client race. We let others come to Palaven to meet with our leaders, but Palaven is turian and will always be turian. It is our home and we must protect it. We don't let just anyone come to Palaven. In fact, if someone does come he must submit to a thorough background check so we know he is not a threat to our people. Ships are the quarians' homes. They protect their ships as we protect Palaven." Garrus blinked a couple times and Cadmus wondered if anything he'd said had even been comprehended by his son. "Do you understand?"

"I think so," Garrus replied. "I still wish I could see the inside."

Viator chuckled and clapped Garrus on the back. "So do I, little Cousin. Ready to head home?"

Garrus' face fell. "Do we have to? I want to see more."

"Your mother…" Cadmus began.

"We could show him the Academy."

Cadmus stared at Viator. C-Sec Academy was in the Lower Wards. They'd have to take a taxi and it was getting late.

"Please, dad!" Garrus pleaded.

"It'll be mostly empty at this time," Viator said. "Very few officers to bother."

Garrus' eyes begged for Cadmus to assent to Viator's suggestion. Viator widened his eyes, encouraging Cadmus to go along. There was no harm in the idea. In fact…

"Alright," Cadmus agreed.

"Yes!" Garrus crowed.

"But when we get there, you're going to demonstrate your combat moves."

"Great," Garrus muttered, his excitement diminished.

Viator laughed. "Look, maybe if you do well, your dad and I can fight each other, show you what it really looks like."

"You will?"

Cadmus nailed Viator with a look of doubt. They hadn't fought each other since they were children.

"What are you worried about?" Viator challenged. "You always won."

Cadmus thought back as they walked along. The last fight he'd had with Viator he'd broken his cousin's arm. Not intentionally of course. When Viator mentioned fighting, he'd perceived in his eyes more than innocent good humor. Somewhere in their depths was the hint of payback.

* * *

Viator was right; when they reached the C-Sec practice rooms, no one was present.

"I always come here this late," Viator explained as they ambled down the hall. "It's nice to get some time alone after walking the beat all day."

Garrus stared in at every room through big glass windows. They passed the shooting range and various gyms, each catering to a specific species that was part of C-Sec. Garrus stopped at one and pointed. "What's that?"

Cadmus paused and looked across at a long, large, hefty bag hanging from the ceiling.

"Punching bag," Viator answered.

"Why would someone want to punch a bag?" Garrus wondered aloud.

Viator chuckled. "That's a human thing." He eyed Cadmus, silent thoughts passing between them. Humans had been admitted into C-Sec only within the last few months. Most officers were still upset over the fact, but they'd been ordered to play nice. The humans had unfortunately argued successfully with the Council that humanity's growing presence on the station necessitated its inclusion in the station's center of law and control. The humans asserted that being so new to the galaxy meant they could be unfairly treated as other races wouldn't necessarily understand them. Humans in C-Sec could explain their ways and determine better than other species the intent and criminality of their race. They also cited their military prowess as evidence of their commitment to law and duty. There was a certain logic to the argument, but Cadmus maintained that humans had entered C-Sec too early. Six years of involvement in the galaxy meant they knew next to nothing. He hadn't worked with any humans as of yet as none had been assigned to Zakera. All of them had been employed under trainers in the fairly tame Presidium for the time being. C-Sec may have been forced to accept them, but it would take its own good time training them.

Cadmus, Viator and Garrus moved on until they reached the combat room, spacious with lockers along the walls and a large mat covering the floor. Cadmus looked to Garrus who swallowed visibly. "Let's see what you've learned since last I saw you."

Garrus made his way onto the mat and stood in the center. Viator leaned against the wall next to Cadmus, clearly trying to appear serious and failing. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to you acting in 'dad' mode," he muttered good-naturedly. Cadmus ignored his cousin and instead concentrated on his son who was moving across the mat in the combat stances. He still wasn't old enough to fight one on one with his father. He'd done alright in combat competitions with peers, but not good enough for Cadmus. Garrus came out slightly above average. Cadmus wanted to see him at the top, his skills rivaling his peers by basic training. He knew the rigors of basic training and the toll it took on turian youth. Garrus would either climb to the top of the heap or fall to the bottom, defeated and shamed. Whether Garrus understood it or not, Cadmus wanted nothing but the best for his son, to spare him the pain that accompanied dishonor if you didn't perform to the level your instructors expected.

Cadmus said nothing as Garrus paced through the moves, simply evaluated. His form was good. He looked solid on the mat; even as a child he carried himself like a formidable foe. When he got older, his perfect form would be seen as intimidating by those he challenged, exactly as he should appear. Cadmus appreciated how smoothly Garrus moved, the forms seeming effortless for him. That, he assumed, was the result of Laelia's instruction. When Garrus stopped and turned, he gazed nervously at Cadmus, awaiting his appraisal.

"Good," Cadmus commented. Garrus' stance relaxed as Cadmus' praise relieved his tension. "Your form is admirable," Cadmus went on. "Why then do you not triumph over all competition?"

Garrus' mandibles fluttered uncomfortably. "Uh…"

"Your last match," Cadmus prompted. "Why did you fail?"

Garrus hung his head. "I broke a rule."

Cadmus sighed loudly. Rules seemed to be Garrus' difficulty. Garrus' character was not in question. He didn't exhibit a lack of morality. Indeed, his moral motions seemed as strong as Cadmus'. He did, however, forget the rules when an advantage appeared before him. He had a habit of taking every opportunity afforded him even if he shouldn't have taken it at all. "You were disqualified," Cadmus clarified.

Garrus nodded, head still bowed. Cadmus felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Viator had pushed off the wall and was staring at him. Cadmus read Viator's thoughts. Garrus was seven, young and inexperienced. They were the same thought as Laelia. Cadmus looked back at his humbled son. He _was_ young, but at some point, that needed to stop being an excuse.

"I expect your mother to report that during your next competition, you have fought without breaking a single rule. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Garrus' small voice uttered.

"Do things right, Garrus, or don't do them at all."

"Yes, sir."

"Now," Viator spoke, his loud voice echoing around the room, "It's our turn." He grinned wickedly at Cadmus. Garrus scampered off the mat, his good mood returning at the prospect of watching his dad and first cousin once removed in combat. Viator paced to one end of the mat, then turned, crouching and ready. Cadmus found his place at the other end, sucking in a slow breath. He spent little time practicing combat moves. His work didn't necessitate it. Viator, on the other hand, as enforcement, worked out almost daily. As he fixed his eyes on his cousin, he knew this fact had not been lost on Viator. He could tell Viator expected to win this time and gain revenge for his painful defeat all those years ago. Cadmus glanced over at Garrus. Viator may have wanted payback, but Cadmus had his own motivation: he wouldn't take a fall in front of his son.

"Prim!" Viator called out as challenger. Viator didn't charge, but moved slowly upwards down the center of the mat. Cadmus matched his moves, crouching as well, eyes narrowed. When they were within six feet of each other, Viator lunged. Cadmus had always allowed a combatant to make the first move. He had learned early on that what most challengers lacked was patience. When combat was upon them and their adrenaline rushed through their blood, they moved too quickly, their will to win outpacing their minds. Cadmus had trained himself to not only fight, but think while fighting. Thus, he easily identified Viator's intent to elbow his chin and kick at his middle. Cadmus stalled Viator's move by gripping his right arm and twisting it back. It was the same move that had broken his arm when they were children. But Viator had expected this. His arm went limp. Instead of maintaining his strength, he let Cadmus follow through on the move. With sudden ease that caught him off balance, Cadmus found he had Viator's arm behind his back. Viator kicked backwards with his right foot. His kick landed on Cadmus' left leg. Cadmus stumbled, forced to let go of Viator to maintain his footing. Viator turned and two strong hands punched into his chest. Cadmus felt himself collapsing towards the mat, but he twisted his body as he went, rolling onto his knees then standing back up on the mat to face Viator's next attack. He ignored the fact that Viator had tricked him. When in combat, guarding one's emotion was what often won the battle.

Viator's next move was to wrap his arms around Cadmus' middle and swing his right leg into Cadmus' legs, hoping to force his fall backwards. Cadmus mentally applauded Viator's strength, but he had always been able to break such a hold. He head-butted Viator with all his might at the same time reaching down to wrench Viator's grip off his waist. Viator shook his head, his brain addled for a second. It was enough for Cadmus to break his hold. Cadmus then took the offense. He kneed Viator in the stomach and pushed down on his shoulders with both hands. Viator grunted, but held his own. Trying not to double over, he thrust out his hand into Cadmus' knee cap. Cadmus heard a pop. Pain radiated down his leg and up his thigh.

"Cadmus!" Viator breathed out, hearing the same as Cadmus and recognizing the pain in his eyes.

Cadmus felt Viator's resolve lessen. He shoved down with a mighty push. Viator almost hit the mat, but at the last moment dipped down suddenly. Cadmus couldn't help but loosen his grip to keep his feet. Viator rolled over and jumped up, turning to face Cadmus who came at him again.

"We can stop!" he yelled out, but Cadmus had reached him by then. Disregarding the sting in his knee, he planted his good leg firmly in the front of Viator and swung his arm into Viator's back. His cousin bowed over, tried to counterbalance, twisting his body to the right. Cadmus used his advantage, shoving his arm out and connecting with the side of Viator's head. Viator toppled, crashing to the mat on his back.

Cadmus slid down to the mat and lay back, breathing heavily, and closed his eyes tightly. "I think you got your revenge," he murmured. He heard Viator's voice at his side.

"I didn't intend this."

"I know," Cadmus acknowledged.

"Dad! Dad! Are you okay?" Garrus had obviously run onto the mat. Cadmus opened his eyes. His son was staring worriedly into his face.

"Nothing that can't be fixed." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. He'd had a dislocated knee cap before. All it took was pushing it back into place. He reached down to his knee, grit his teeth and shoved the cap back over the joint. He felt some bit of relief, but the warm heat of pain continued to be present. He covered his eyes with his hand and breathed slowly.

"Can you walk?" Viator asked.

"I'll be able to."

"Sorry," Viator murmured.

Cadmus looked up. "No you're not."

A smile appeared as Viator slowly opened his mouth. "Okay. So I'm not entirely sorry. You know how badly my arm hurt that day?"

"I can imagine," Cadmus said.

"What day?" Garrus asked, confused.

"Your dad broke my arm when we were kids," Viator explained, unconsciously rubbing his right forearm.

"You did?" Garrus asked.

"It was not on purpose," Cadmus clarified, not wanting Garrus to think this gave him permission to try and break his combatants' bones.

"But you won."

"I didn't win."

"But, Cousin Viator didn't win."

"The match was called off. Viator was taken to the hospital."

"Oh." Garrus looked up at Viator who nodded. He looked back to his father. "But you kept fighting this time."

"Your father," Viator said, "is as stubborn as a thresher maw. At least I keep losing to a worthy opponent."

Cadmus put a hand on Garrus' shoulder. "You fight through the pain, son. You make it motivate you. No matter what someone does to you, you don't give up. You bring it home."

Garrus nodded slowly and Cadmus sensed he was truly listening and understanding, maybe for the first time. "Help me up," Cadmus commanded. Viator reached down and gripped Cadmus by the arm, helping him to his feet. Cadmus took some tentative steps across the mat. His knee throbbed, but it would recover. He might have to wrap it when he got back to the apartment.

"I think it's time to go back," Viator insisted. He made to take Cadmus' arm, but his cousin pushed his hand out of the way. Viator nodded curtly and instead put a hand on Garrus' back, pushing him towards the door. Garrus let himself be directed, glancing back for a second at his father. Cadmus saw the pride in Garrus' eyes. He followed at a slower pace. His knee burned, but it was worth it just for Garrus. His son had gotten a taste of what it meant to endure. He hoped he would take it to heart.

As they walked back down the hall, Cadmus heard Garrus asking more questions and Viator answering. Cadmus was several paces behind them now. As he passed the human practice room, he heard a rhythmic pounding. He paused to look through the door. A human was using the punching bag. He found it strange to actually see a human in C-Sec casual. It was utterly incongruous. The human was young and quite short compared to a turian. He seemed to be more than practicing. The way he attacked the bag, Cadmus got the sense he was angry. This was confirmed when he started talking out loud.

"Screw the regulations! Security here is full of nothing but a bunch of lazy-ass whiners!"

Cadmus felt his blood begin to boil. Was this human talking about C-Sec?

"This isn't Alliance space. You can't do it the way you did it back there." The voice that answered came from somewhere else in the room. The human stopped punching the bag and glared at someone out of Cadmus' range of vision.

"Do they want crime stamped out here or not? If they do, they're going to need to fire some of these pansies and get some real men in here!"

"Come on, Harkin. We represent humanity to them. We've got to play by their rules, at least for now."

"No, what we're going to do is change them. We're going to show C-Sec what it really means to take down the bad guys."

The other person the human was talking to cleared his throat and the human turned to the door. When he saw Cadmus, his eyes widened, then narrowed. For a moment he didn't seem to know what to do, but then he stamped right up to Cadmus.

"This is a private conversation!" he proclaimed. He made to slap the panel and close the door, but Cadmus reached out and gripped his wrist tightly.

"What the…" the human looked at him angrily. "Get your hands off me, filthy turian."

"I am Detective Chief Cadmus Vakarian," Cadmus spoke, his voice thick with authority. "I am your superior."

"So? Does that give you the right to assault me?"

"It means you will show respect." He glared down at the human. The other human now came into view, a taller man with dark hair and striking blue eyes.

"We're sorry, sir," he spoke apologetically.

"I want to hear it from him."

The human scowled at him defiantly for a couple more seconds. Cadmus thought he might be debating whether he could take Cadmus on or not. He breathed out harshly. "Sorry. Okay. I'm sorry." Cadmus let go of his wrist and the human stomped out the door and down the hall muttering under his breath.

"He had a bad day," the other human explained.

"That is no excuse," Cadmus returned.

"Uh…no, I guess it isn't." The human held out his hand. "I'm Officer Rawls, sir." Cadmus tentatively reached out and gripped the human's wrist. The human looked down awkwardly, then smiled. "Yeah...Turian handshake. I keep forgetting."

"Handshake?" Cadmus questioned.

"Yeah, we humans hold hands and shake them to greet each other."

"Ah," Cadmus replied, filing away the information for the future—tomorrow to be exact. He still had to interview that human who'd complained about the batarians. Cadmus looked back down the hall at the retreating human's back.

"Don't worry about him," Officer Rawls said. "He'll wise up."

_He'd better_, Cadmus grumbled inside, nodding to Rawls and heading down the hall to catch up with his cousin and son. He made a mental note to look up this Harkin in the station files. It wouldn't be a bad idea to let his boss know what his trainee had been saying.

* * *

As he climbed into bed that night, Cadmus lay back slowly. Laelia had wrapped his knee. She'd complained about him and Viator acting like little children. Cadmus had contended it had been good for Garrus to see grown adults fighting in mature combat. She'd then prattled on about her time with Leea. She ended by declaring how much she liked Leea. Cadmus had grunted with his eyes closed.

"You wanted their marriage to fail, didn't you?" Laelia's voice challenged.

Cadmus opened one eye. "I did not _want_ it to fail."

"Well, you at least expected it to."

"Hum…" Cadmus intoned, closing his eye.

"If you ask me, Viator and Leea are a perfect match."

Now Cadmus opened both eyes. "He's turian and she's quarian."

"What does their species matter? You know many turians have mated with asari."

"Asari can bear children."

"Oh, so you think marriage is all about children?"

Cadmus saw the offense in Laelia's eyes. He sat up. "I did _not_ say that."

"Am I less worthy now that I can't bear you any more offspring?"

Cadmus sighed. He didn't want an argument with Laelia. "No. I've never required that of you. If you had never birthed a child it would not have mattered to me."

Laelia's mandibles fluttered. Her harsh countenance fell. "I believe you," she whispered.

"What I fear for Viator is his lack of intimacy. His wife is unreachable in many ways."

Laelia smiled slowly. "But that hasn't stopped them. Leea tells me she's always been healthier than many other quarians. Besides, she said after fifteen years or so, quarians become so used to their spouse's germs, they hardly react anymore."

Cadmus lay back. He didn't want to discuss quarian sex. He'd thought at times of asking Viator what it was like, but his questions would never become utterances.

"The point is," Laelia concluded. "They love each other and they work well together. Leea's just the kind heart Viator needs."

Perhaps, Cadmus admitted to himself. Still, few turians had entered marriage with another species. He guessed it was less than 1% of the population. Laelia turned off the light and the room went dark. Cadmus had almost drifted off to sleep when his omni-tool sounded. He groaned and reached out to grab it, then flashed it on. A new message had arrived from Executor Mehrkuri. Cadmus immediately read it. You didn't ignore a message from the Executor.

_Cadmus, Heard the human Presidium case got funneled down the line to you. Can't say I'm disappointed. I need you on this case. Meet me in my office at 0600 tomorrow morning._

Cadmus turned off his tool and closed his eyes. If Decimus was calling him in, something deeper was going on than a simple complaint. He thought back to the humans at the Academy. If he'd only met the one punching the bag, he would have concluded humans were arrogant and full of themselves. But the other human had seemed reasonable. He thought of this Zachary Carter his team would soon be interviewing. Was he one of the arrogant ones or reasonable ones? He sucked in a tired breath and rolled over. He'd find out tomorrow.


	18. Threat?

Cadmus arrived at Decimus' office five minutes early. He found his old boss already there, eyes switching quickly between his computer, a data pad and his omni-tool. He paused when Cadmus entered. "Cadmus! Take a seat."

Cadmus walked over in front of the desk and sat down, back straight, head at attention. "Executor."

Decimus' mandibles flexed outwards as he smiled. "Still the same since I last saw you. Good." He flipped a data pad around and shoved it towards Cadmus. "Here's my problem."

Cadmus picked up the data pad, scanning an e-mail from the Council to Decimus. It detailed the arrival of several Systems Alliance dignitaries and included a schedule of their activities. They would be meeting with the Council mostly, but also touring the station. Cadmus looked over at Decimus. "You think this human's complaint might be true. Batarians possibly after Systems Alliance officials."

Decimus nodded. "I knew you'd understand immediately. This human might be right. He might be wrong. We need to figure out which. Preferably yesterday."

"I understand, sir."

"Your first step?"

"Interview the human."

"I thought so. I've sent a human officer down to Zakera. He should be there 0700 sharp."

Cadmus cocked his head. "Sir?"

"From the report, looks like this human doesn't trust turians. One of his own kind can reassure him our intentions are aboveboard."

Cadmus nodded. He followed Decimus' reasoning. His stomach turned, however. He didn't like the idea of a human tagging along, not after his experience with the two human officers at the Academy last night. But it didn't matter how he felt. Decimus was the Executor and to be obeyed without question. "I'll be expecting him."

"Also, don't drag the human down to Zakera. We don't need batarians knowing we're looking into this thing. Go see him where he lives."

"I will."

"Get to it."

Cadmus stood, moved to exit, then tarried at the door momentarily to look back at Decimus buried in his electronic devices again. He hadn't seen Decimus much since he'd become Executor. He had his hands full with all of C-Sec his responsibility as well as the Council breathing down his neck. Cadmus didn't envy his old chief. He appreciated his own freedom as a detective down the line. He would much rather unravel a mystery and bring perpetrators to justice than spend his days tied to a desk at the beck and call of hundreds who demanded your immediate personal attention. He left Decimus' office, already formulating a plan of attack for the human case that had been thrust in his lap.

* * *

When Cadmus approached his precinct, he found Laelia waiting for him along with Garrus and Solana. Cadmus hadn't forgotten his promise to let Garrus visit his office and had arranged for his family to meet up with him after his meeting with the Executor.

"Can we go in now?" Garrus asked enthusiastically as Cadmus came near.

"Follow me," Cadmus commanded. Garrus walked behind him as the precinct door swooshed open. The turian receptionist nodded to him briefly. "Taking them in for a moment." The turian waved the family forward.

Cadmus paced down to his office, Garrus' feet slapping quickly behind him on the solid floor. "That's the briefing room," he pointed out as they walked. "There are two detective teams in the precinct. We meet there all together." He passed Lazarin's office. "My superior is in there. And this," he stopped in front of his own door, "is where I spend most of my days."

Garrus peered up at the nameplate beside the door. His eyes beamed with pride.

"My team should be inside waiting for me," Cadmus palmed the panel and the door opened. He'd ordered his team to be ready early and so they were. As he walked in, all their eyes locked onto him, Asheel's and Tychus' expressions revealing their surprise that he'd brought his family to their meeting. Joran, however, was unfazed and immediately greeted them.

"Detective Vakarian's family!" He cried out, rushing over to Laelia and gripping her wrist. "Welcome to the Citadel! Welcome indeed!"

Cadmus hid a snicker as he perceived Tychus' eyes about to roll into the back of his head.

"Uh…thank you," Laelia replied graciously, giving Cadmus a look that proclaimed how strange she thought Joran was.

"Little daughter, strong son," Joran declared as he apprised Cadmus' children. "What are your ages?"

"I'm six…seven in two months," Garrus responded, his eyes glued to Joran's face. He'd never seen a salarian in person.

"And this one?" Joran asked, pointing at Solana.

"She's two years," Laelia answered. "And you are…"

"Ah, yes, should have said that first," Joran replied in his matter-of-fact way. "Joran. Surveillance."

"I'm Asheel," a voice spoke up. Asheel, who had been sitting down, stood and nodded to Laelia. He looked down at Garrus. "What do you think of your father's precinct?"

Garrus gazed around the room. "It's neat."

Asheel smiled subtly. "You plan on being a cop some day?"

Garrus looked over at Cadmus, then back to Asheel, his mandibles pushed in and out, shrugging. "Maybe."

"He likes ships," Laelia put forth.

"Ships are fine, young one," Tychus spoke up, pushing back from the wall he leaned against. "But a gun in your own hand is better."

"This is Tychus," Cadmus introduced. "I don't think it will surprise you that he's our interrogator."

Everyone in the room smiled, including Tychus himself. Cadmus looked meaningfully at Laelia. "We have a pressing case."

"Garrus," Laelia said, lifting Solana up higher in her arms and tapping her son on the shoulder. "It's time for us to leave."

"Okay," Garrus agreed a little dejectedly, but he followed Laelia out the door.

"How long are they here?" Asheel asked, settling back into the chair.

"Three weeks," Cadmus answered, moving behind his desk and slipping down into his own chair.

"Right. About this case…" Cadmus suppressed a grin. Tychus liked nothing better than a challenging case. However, Cadmus thought this time his fire might be dampened once he'd learned of their objective.

Cadmus tapped on his omni-tool sending his team a copy of Lazarin's e-mail. All of them took a moment to read and as expected, Tychus groaned. "A crazy human?"

"There might be more to it than you think, Tychus," Cadmus returned.

"How so?" Asheel asked thoughtfully.

"I met with the Executor this morning."

"Ah!" Joran intoned excitedly.

"A Systems Alliance convoy is arriving this evening, bringing in some of the Alliance's top leaders. If what the human has claimed he heard is accurate, they could be the batarians' targets."

Tychus grunted. "How many batarians you know go strolling around the Citadel, especially the Presidium, letting everyone in on their plans? If you ask me, humans are always like this. They see monsters around every corner. They _always_ think other species are out to get them."

"Aren't you overgeneralizing?" Asheel questioned. He, like Cadmus, had taken a more objective way of looking at the humans.

"No. I personally know some of the officers training the C-Sec humans. They may have strength, but I've been told working with them is like training varren. They assume the only reason the trainers are there is to stand in their way."

"I don't care what the humans are like," Cadmus interrupted, his voice loud and causing silence to reign in the room. "The Executor has ordered us to look into this and determine if there is a legitimate threat. We have less than a day to make sure this place is safe for the Alliance leaders. We're _going_ to cover all bases."

"Yes, sir," Joran responded dutifully. Asheel did as well. Tychus also responded with a curt, "Sir!", falling into line, though still obviously of the opinion the case was a waste of effort.

"Joran, I need you to check out all surveillance on the day of the complaint. Look for groups of batarians hanging out where the human says he overheard them."

"Yes, sir."

"Asheel, go through the travel records of all batarians arriving in the last month. See if any have had trouble with humans before. Also determine if more have shown up than usual."

"Sir."

"Tychus…" Cadmus swiveled in his seat and gazed with authority on his interrogator. "You may not like it, but the humans are on the Citadel and I don't think they'll be leaving anytime soon. You might as well start getting along with them and today's your first opportunity."

"Sir?" Tychus asked tentatively.

"The Executor's sending a human officer down to us. He's coming along when we interview Zachary Carter."

Cadmus could tell Tychus wanted to protest as his posture stiffened. But he had always respected Cadmus and he answered frankly. "I will do my best to be…polite, sir."

"Good. Dismissed. Tychus, I'll let you know when the human officer's here." The team members left the room and Cadmus leaned back in his seat. Humans caused too much consternation. Some days he wished they'd never even been found. He flashed on his tool and skimmed through a list of human C-Sec officers. It only took him a few seconds to find the name he was looking for: Eugene Harkin. He pulled up Harkin's C-Sec file. With interest he saw that a reprimand was already in his file. He read through it. It wad dated yesterday. It reported that Harkin had been questioning an asari. He'd gotten fresh with her, making sexual advances. He'd found himself thrown across the room by a biotic blast and then in trouble when the asari filed a harassment complaint. His defense was in the file as well. He claimed he'd only been trying to get information out of her, but his trainer thought otherwise, noting Harkin's tendency to follow his lusts and step outside of bounds.

Cadmus shook his head as he shut down his tool and picked up his data pad. This Harkin should never have been given a chance in C-Sec. Why humanity picked him as a recruit was beyond him. Harkin certainly wasn't doing anything to increase goodwill for his people out here. Cadmus wrote a short report to Harkin's trainer, detailing the insubordination he'd overheard and warning him to keep Harkin in his sights. As he finished the e-mail, the chime for the door rang.

"Enter!" Cadmus called out.

The door wooshed open and a tall human officer with dark hair and striking blue eyes stepped through. "Reporting for duty, detective."

Cadmus started and pushed back in his chair. It was the other officer from yesterday. Officer Rawls. "Rawls," he greeted slowly.

"Yes, sir. Good to see you again, sir." Rawls stood at attention, eyes straight ahead. Cadmus' critical eye ran over the human. With relief, he realized he'd dodged a bullet. He didn't know where Rawls stood on the rules of C-Sec. But he was glad he at least hadn't gotten stuck with Harkin.

* * *

Cadmus stood outside Zachary Carter's apartment with Tychus and Rawls. It hadn't been easy to find. It was in a less habited and poorer section of Tayseri Ward. Cadmus had checked out C-Sec's identification file on Carter. He learned the human had been born on Mars, a planet in the humans' system of origin. Most of his life, however, had been spent on various merchant ships. The file mentioned no living relatives. He'd had a few run-ins with the law, mainly related to his overconsumption of alcohol. He'd said he'd come to the Citadel hoping to dredge up work on any ship that would have him. When asked why he hadn't looked in Alliance space, he'd responded that he'd grown tired of seeing only humans. Cadmus had read in Carter's file a typical wanderer. He was one of those humans who thought the galaxy had nothing to offer but adventure and good times around the corner. Observing his impoverished housing arrangements, Cadmus figured his idealism wasn't lining up with reality. He'd seen this restless trait in many humans. They were never content as they were, always pressing forwards, reaching out to grasp what they assumed would bring ultimate happiness. Things would be a lot simpler for them if they'd just understand their place in the universe and make friends with it.

Cadmus tapped the chime for entry. He looked down at Rawls. "I want Tychus to ask most of the questions. But you speak first. Make him comfortable with this."

"Yes, sir." So far Rawls had said little. He'd acted like a soldier on duty, obeying his general's every command. Cadmus approved of his businesslike manner. It made things a lot easier, especially for Tychus. He didn't think Tychus would have appreciated Rawls trying to get chummy.

The door slid open. Cadmus wasn't a good judge of humans' ages, but he had learned that the fuzz on humans' heads was called hair and that it lost color as they aged. This human's disheveled hair was brown but streaked with white. He also had white stubble on his chin. Cadmus guessed that this human was moving towards the older end of his species' age range. His eyes were a dark brown and worn, almost hollow. He was also thin as a rail.

"Yeah?" the human asked warily.

"Are you Zachary Carter?" Rawls asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm Officer John Rawls. This is Detective Chief Cadmus Vakarian and Officer Tychus Kilieas. We want to discuss your encounter with the batarians in the Presidium."

Carter looked at each of them in turn, his weary gaze resting longer on Cadmus and Tychus than on Rawls. He spoke to Rawls, his eyes shifting back and forth from Cadmus to Tychus. "You sure you just wanna talk? Not sucker me into a loony bin?"

Cadmus cocked his head. _Loony bin?_

Rawls smiled kindly. "No, no, sir, nothing like that. In fact, the Executor has taken an interest in your complaint. We want full details."

"Hum…" Carter intoned. He finally stepped back and gestured inside. Cadmus entered. The apartment was dingy, tidy, but run down and unimpressive. Clearly Carter had no reason to keep up the apartment, thus, Cadmus concluded, most likely no woman in his life either. Carter took a seat in an easy chair. "You can sit."

"Thank you," Rawls answered. He sat down in a chair to Carter's right once Cadmus and Tychus had sat down on a couch across from the easy chair. "Officer Kilieas has some questions for you."

"Fire away." Cadmus assumed Carter's answer was another human phrase he didn't understand. Putting the turian terms for "fire" and "away" together didn't make any sense. He didn't comprehend a relationship between the concepts of flames and leaving.

"Here," Rawls said, putting his hand out to Carter. "We picked up a translator so you'll understand the questions."

Carter reached out to an end table next to his chair. "Got one." He stuffed a tiny translator into his ear.

"You have a translator?" Tychus inquired with surprise and not a little suspicion. Cadmus was surprised as well. They knew human politicians and some military officers regularly wore translators, but the latest information noted that human civilians had yet to widely use them. Not only was this because most humans still stayed in their own space, but because they were cost prohibitive as well. With the state of Carter's apartment, Cadmus didn't see how he could have purchased one.

Carter looked at Tychus with apprehension. "I didn't steal it, if that's whatch you're thinkin'."

Cadmus noticed Tychus clench his jaw, but his interrogator maintained his control. "How did you come by it?" he asked calmly.

"Last ship I worked on had trade routes with volus and turians…" Carter swallowed. "Yeah, I know, I probably shouldn't kept it when I left. Guess it was company property. But I'd already got it in my mind to come to the Citadel. I borrowed it, you see?"

Cadmus, who had come with his data pad in hand, made a note that Carter was in possession of a translator. That explained how he'd been able to overhear the batarians. Cadmus guessed the batarians hadn't expected human civilians to be walking around with translators, especially humans that looked as haggard as Carter. He also noted that Carter wasn't above "borrowing" from employers and that he also didn't think "borrowing" was stealing.

"What's he doin'?" Carter asked suddenly, pointing at Cadmus.

"He's taking notes on the interview," Rawls explained evenly.

"I hadn't said nothin' about batarians. Why's he tappin' then?"

"Uh…"

"Personal notes for your C-Sec file," Cadmus spoke honestly. He had a bit of a mind to put Carter in his place.

"C-sec keeps files on me?" Carter's eyes widened in fear.

"C-Sec keeps files on everyone who comes to the station," Cadmus clarified. "You do remember the application for admittance you filled out when you arrived?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but…" Carter blew out an uncomfortable breath. He looked to Rawls. "This gonna get me in trouble with my former boss?"

Rawls shook his head. "I doubt your boss is privy to C-Sec files."

"Yeah, sure…makes sense." He looked over at Tychus, his bushy eyebrows coming together. "So what you wanna know that I didn't say? I told 'em everything."

"We need more details," Tychus explained. He looked down at his omni-tool. "We know you saw the alleged batarians at approximately 1300 at…"

"Alleged?" Carter exploded, sitting forward in his chair. "They was as close to me as you are. I seen 'em with my own two eyes."

Tychus' eyes narrowed. "We are still looking for them, thus, they are still classified as alleged. May I continue?" Carter waved his hand and sat back grumpily in his chair. "You saw them near the Financial Exchange. You cla…reported they were discussing how to get revenge on humans occupying the Citadel." Cadmus caught Tychus' change from "claimed" to "reported." It was a good move.

"Yeah," Carter confirmed.

"There aren't many details in the file. The report says you heard the batarians mention 'one a week' and 'getting them to Zakera.' Can you elaborate on what you heard?"

Carter sat up in his chair again. "Look, sonny. Them batarians was goin' on about humans bein' a menace and they was sick of lookin' at 'em. Talked like they'd been workin' on somethin' for months. One of 'em said they was ready for action."

"Can you tell me _exactly_ what they said?" Tychus returned, trying to bring Carter back to the fact that he needed accurate details of the conversation and not a general summary.

"What? You think 'cause I got a translator I got one of them fancy omni-tools, too? I don't carry a recorder in my back pocket."

Tychus clenched his jaw again and his mandibles tightened. Cadmus could tell he wasn't used to having to coddle difficult interviewees. Most of the time he entered an interrogation room with the full force of damning evidence at his back.

"Can you give us the conversation word for word?" Cadmus asked clearly and slowly.

Carter jerked his head over to look at him. "Didn't you just hear what I said? I don't carry a recorder. I don't remember exact words. Just that they was plannin' to carry out whatever they got in their minds to do to humans."

Cadmus sighed. "What do you think they meant by 'one a week.'"

Carter rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I been thinkin' about that. I think maybe they's talkin' about a bomb or somethin'."

Cadmus noted Carter's idea in the file, though he found it ludicrous and highly unlikely. He didn't think the materials to create a large scale bomb would get through C-Sec's screening processes.

"How did you even get so close to them?" Tychus asked abruptly.

Carter turned his head back to Tychus. "Huh?"

"You said you were as close to them as to me. How did you get so close to them?"

Carter rubbed his chin again in what Cadmus took to be a nervous gesture. "Well, you see, I got this idea…" He looked to Rawls. "You ain't gonna arrest me again, are you?"

Rawls eyed Cadmus who shook his head imperceptibly. Rawls turned back to Carter. "No, sir. We only want your information."

"Well, then…I seen this tree. Never seen one like it before—purple leaves and some dark fruit I think on it. Well, I got in my mind to climb it, maybe pull off some of them fruits. So I scurried up when no one was lookin'. Got pretty high up, too. It was pretty dense and no one could see me, so I thought I'd hang around a bit. Wouldn't you know those two batarians show up right below me goin' on about their plans? Ha! They didn't know they's bein' spied on." Carter was grinning and his eyes twinkled in triumph.

Cadmus hid a smile. He felt like laughing, not only at the picture of this skinny, older human scaling a Presidium tree, but also at Tychus who was staring at the human like he was out of his mind.

"What did they look like?" Cadmus inquired, seeing as Tychus was so dumbfounded he hadn't asked another question.

"Ain't you seen batarians?" Carter asked incredulously. "They each got four eyes."

Cadmus blinked. "You can't be more detailed than that?"

"I can't tell 'em apart," Carter defended himself.

Cadmus sucked in an impatient breath. So far, Carter had been of very little help at all. All they had done was confirm he'd overheard batarians talking. Whether Carter's interpretations of what he'd heard were accurate or not was up for debate. "Batarians have different skin tones. Some are yellow, some more reddish and some greenish. Which were they?"

Carter scratched the top of his head, then lowered his hand. "I don't know. Yellowy red? Maybe?"

Cadmus caught Tychus' eye and his look was unmistakable—this interview had been worthless. They might as well interview a rock as much good this was doing.

"Thank you for your time," Cadmus spoke, standing and extending his hand, remembering that humans shook hands.

Carter stood as well and slowly took Cadmus' hand. Cadmus made a shaking motion and Carter winced. When Cadmus let go, the human rubbed his hand. "You got a strong grip there," he mumbled. "'Bout ripped my hand off." Cadmus didn't know if this was a compliment or an indictment. He made for the door followed by Tychus and Rawls. When the door to the apartment closed, Tychus was the first to talk.

"Humans are incomprehensible!" Tychus declared.

Cadmus stared at Tychus. "They're just new to us." He looked to Rawls, reminding Tychus that a human was still in their presence.

Tychus' mandibles twitched. "No offense meant."

Rawls shrugged. "None taken. I get you. Turians are just as strange to humans."

"Like what?" Tychus asked, perturbed, but also sounding a little curious.

Rawls laughed. "You want me to write a book?"

Tychus' mandibles flexed again. "Why would I ask you to do such a thing?"

Rawls bit his lips together and Cadmus could tell he was trying not to laugh again. "It doesn't mean that. It means it would take a long time to answer that question."

"Oh," Tychus replied. "Alright. An example then?"

As they moved back down the hall, Cadmus considered the turian and human next to him, unexpectedly in a discussion over how each species perceived the other. It was interesting for sure. Rawls explained how most humans saw turians as emotionless, having an inability to love and a lack of compassion. Tychus then explained how turians thought humans were way too emotional. But what interested Cadmus the most was how Rawls had disarmed Tychus' disgruntled approach to humanity. Rawls had an easygoing nature. Cadmus found him to be a good officer, one he wouldn't have minded working with. He hadn't expected to have such positive feelings concerning a human C-Sec officer.

When they made it back to Zakera, Cadmus thanked Rawls for his help, then ordered him back to the Presidium. Rawls, however, asked if he could see Cadmus privately for a moment. Cadmus consented, leading him back to his office. He sat down behind his desk. He offered Rawls a seat, but the human officer paced back and forth for a moment, then put his hands on the headrest of the chair on the other side of Cadmus' desk, looking him straight in the eye.

"I wanted to warn you, sir."

"About what?" Cadmus questioned.

"Harkin's pissed at you."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes as the translation came through. "He's…what?"

Rawls slapped a hand to his forehead. "Yeah, shouldn't have said it that way. He doesn't want to…piss on you, he just, he's really angry at you."

Cadmus leaned back in his chair. "I can't say that's unexpected."

"I mean, _really _angry at you. You know that message I got on the way back?"

Cadmus inclined his head. As they'd walked back to Zakera, Rawls had checked his omni-tool when it beeped.

"Harkin knows you told our boss about yesterday."

"His trainer deserved to know."

"Yeah, well, humans don't like being tattled on."

Cadmus did catch the translation of tattled—a child reporting the misdeeds of another. Apparently humans found this offensive. Turians, on the other hand, did not. "You think he'll try to do something to me." It was a statement more than a question.

Rawls shrugged. "I don't know. I trained with him only a couple months before we got here. I just think you need to be careful."

Cadmus bowed his head. "Your warning is appreciated. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Rawls exited the office.

Cadmus pushed back in his seat, linking his talons under his chin. There were good and bad in every race. Rawls he deemed a decent human. Harkin, on the other hand, was untrustworthy and selfish. If Harkin wanted to take him on, let him. He didn't think he'd find it difficult to crush such an unworthy character.

* * *

After he gathered his thoughts, Cadmus called his team in to report. Tychus related their interview with Carter, in his opinion a waste of their valuable time. All it did was validate Carter's claim that he'd heard batarians. Tychus asserted he thought Carter might have been on drugs at the time. Why would he climb a tree in the Presidium otherwise?

Joran had scrutinized the Presidium video surveillance. It had taken him a while to track down Carter, but he confirmed Carter had indeed climbed a tree. He played the video for them. Cadmus watched amused as Carter swung his head this way and that before grasping a lower branch and hefting himself into the purple tree. He wouldn't have expected such agility out of the old human. After about ten minutes, two batarians approached the alcove under the tree from separate directions. They talked for two minutes, then left. Right after, Carter appeared again, scrambling down from the tree and running out of camera range. At least this substantiated that he _had_ seen batarians.

Cadmus asked Asheel if he'd tried to identify the batarians. Asheel acknowledged Joran had shown him the video and he was in the process of tracking them down. He also added that there had been no substantial increase in batarian migration to the Citadel. Cadmus dismissed his team, letting them work on other cases until Asheel had positive IDs on the batarians. Cadmus felt a sense of relief in putting aside the human case for a while. The longer he'd worked on it, the more he felt there was nothing to it. An old human had simply overheard batarians talking. Batarians on the Citadel often bragged about what they were going to do to humans. Most of them never carried out their threats, however.

In the afternoon, Asheel came to Cadmus' office with the identity of the batarians in question: Ghorn Shad'Lih and Taram Thused. Neither had any criminal history. Their files indicated they'd arrive over a year ago and were living in Zakera. They were partners running a merchant shop that sold every day items. No complaints had ever been filed against them. Indeed, their files were marked as "non-threatening," indicating C-Sec didn't think resources needed to be spent on keeping them in its sights. The information further prejudiced Cadmus towards the belief that Carter was a human prone to emotional fantasy. Still, he remembered the incident with the hanar a few years back. He'd learned well you couldn't always judge criminality by appearances. These batarians might be hardworking citizens—but there was always the possibility they were more. Cadmus ordered Tychus to have the two batarians brought in and interviewed.

Time passed. An hour before Cadmus was due to leave work, Tychus contacted him letting him know security had been unable to locate the batarians. Their shop had been closed for the day. Friends who knew them said they'd decided to take the day off and spend some time in the entertainment districts.

Cadmus had sighed and put his hand to his head, thinking. It was second nature as a detective to jump to the suspicion that something criminal was in the works. Often it was. But sometimes you followed a lead and found that nothing had been wrong after all. One time he'd been called in on an apparent kidnapping of an asari child, only for it to be discovered four hours later that the child had hidden in an air duct to escape a biotic lesson. Cadmus called Decimus and reported his team's current findings on the case. Decimus agreed it was most likely nothing to worry about, but thought Cadmus should interview the batarians anyway. Cadmus said he'd let him know when they were found.

Cadmus left standing orders for Tychus to contact him when the batarians had been tracked down. He'd come back to the office for the interrogation. He left the office, pushing thoughts of the case out of his mind so he could enjoy time with his family.

* * *

After a satisfying dinner, Cadmus had suggested to Garrus they go back to the docks. The Systems Alliance ship had come in. Garrus jumped at the chance, eager to see human ships firsthand. Laelia had come along with Solana and now the whole family stood in front of a large panoramic window, viewing the human ship.

"Human ships are behind," Garrus explained. "But they're catching up."

Cadmus smiled at Laelia, both of them amused at Garrus' evaluation. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes detailing humanity's flight capabilities. He sounded so mature when he talked about ships; he knew more about them than many turian adults.

"This shuttle's from their capital ship," Garrus went on. "I read about it." He paused a moment and looked at Laelia. "Well, mom read me about it mostly." He looked back out the window. "They've got a new ion engine based on asari technology."

"Want down. Must walk." Laelia giggled at Solana's command and transferred Solana from her arms to the floor. The two and a half year old stepped over to her brother, peering intently up at him. "Garrus play."

Garrus glanced down at his sister and sighed. "Not now, Sol."

Solana reached up and pulled on his hand. "Now!"

"Mom!" Garrus cried out, turning to look at Laelia.

"Garrus!" Cadmus reprimanded shortly. "Speak with respect and control."

Garrus sucked in a breath. "Mom, I don't want to play now."

"She just likes you," Laelia said, stepping over to her son and daughter.

"I wish she didn't like me so much," Garrus grumbled.

Cadmus successfully suppressed a laugh and stood next to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You _should_ like your sibling." Garrus sighed again, contemplating his feet. "Look at me." Garrus reluctantly met Cadmus' eyes. "Family loyalty is paramount for a turian. Solana is tied to you by blood. You support and honor each other, no matter the cost."

"Okay," Garrus consented. He looked back down at his sister. "What do you want to play?"

"Chase me," Solana demanded, pattering a few steps.

"Like that's a challenge," Garrus mumbled, but followed her anyway.

Laelia spoke quietly. "Some days I wonder if they'll ever get along when they're older."

Cadmus smiled at her. "Aren't you the one always telling me to remember Garrus is a child? Give them time to grow close to one another."

Laelia nodded. There was a sudden beep and Cadmus flipped on his omni-tool, expecting an e-mail from Tychus saying they'd located the batarians. Instead a message had come in from Palgera Casca, the chief of the Presidium's 2nd Precinct. It requested an immediate call.

"I need a minute," Cadmus informed Laelia. Laelia moved off after Garrus and Solana. Cadmus put his hand to his ear, tapped on his tool and sent the call through. In a few seconds, Casca's voice came over his comm.

"Captain Casca."

"This is Detective Vakarian."

"Ah. Good. You're the one on the Zachary Carter case."

"Yes."

"We arrested him."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered in consternation. "Why?"

"Misuse of Citadel property. He tried to climb a tree and when my officers stopped him he ranted and raved about some batarians hanging out in the Presidium."

Cadmus stifled a tired sigh. "Did he say they were actually present?"

"He said when we brought him in that some batarians were back and had a human this time and that the Executor cared about it. Then he mentioned your name."

_Great_, Cadmus thought to himself.

"Anyway, the point is he's been going on about it for the last twenty minutes and says that if we don't hurry the batarians are going to hurt the human he thinks they were with. Do you have any idea what this human's problem is?"

"I do. I'll check it out personally. Send me the coordinates where you picked him up."

"Will do. Call me back after you investigate. I need to know what to do with this human."

"I will. Vakarian out."

Cadmus walked down the hallway to Laelia. "I need to go for awhile. I'll meet you back at the apartment." Laelia nodded and Cadmus turned on his heel, more than bit annoyed he'd been called away from his family because Carter had been acting like an emotional idiot.

* * *

Cadmus followed the coordinates Casca had sent him on his tool. He found himself at the infamous purple tree. He glanced down into the alcove, but no one occupied it. He looked up and saw a balcony above. He climbed some nearby stairs and made his way to the balcony, hoping to get a wider view of the area. He turned on his tool and pulled up photos of the batarians, then scanned all in his immediate view. No batarians were in sight. He looked back down at his tool, muttering about Carter's paranoia. He tapped, connecting his comm back to Casca.

"Casca here."

"I haven't found any evidence of foul play," Cadmus reported.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Casca said. "If it had been an asari or salarian who reported it…"

Cadmus sighed and agreed. "It _was _a human who reported the incident. With their unstable emotions, it was probably a mistake."

"You can come see him if you want."

"It's not necessary."

"Alright then. We'll keep him overnight. Night, detective."

"Vakarian out." During his conversation, Cadmus had noticed a human woman standing on the balcony staring out at the Presidium. She wore an Alliance uniform and he assumed had come in with the Systems Alliance convoy. He wouldn't have even observed her if it weren't for the color of her hair. It was a shade he had never seen on a human, a little orange, but not bright. A muted orange tone. When his call ended he had half a mind to talk to her, inquire if she'd seen anything amiss, but he decided against it. No need to let the Alliance think humans were a current target on the station.

He turned and marched back down the hall, the gears of his mind turning. Carter was now an uncomfortable burr in his cowl. He wanted nothing better than to consider this case closed with a declaration that the human was unstable. But in the back of his mind, a tiny doubt troubled him. His mind wouldn't be entirely settled until those two batarians had been found and interviewed but as yet, they were still incognito. Cadmus had been moving back towards home, but abruptly halted and turned, heading towards a different elevator. There was one other avenue he could try just to quiet his mind. He hoped Forvan was occupying his typical seat in Heged's Wrath. If anything criminal was afoot, he'd most likely know about it.


	19. Justice

Cadmus stepped through the double doors of Heged's Wrath, scanning the large room for his informant. He'd stopped by his office to change out of his C-Sec casuals, opting for a tame suit that would blend in with a crowd. He wished he could have changed his tattoos—they were the only feature that might give him away. Luckily, it was night. The bar was full of patrons and no one even noticed him so consumed were they with their own conversations and drinks. The bar catered to a mix of races, but was seedier than most. It was known for trouble and the unruly behavior of its patrons. In essence, it was a perfect place to pick up criminal gossip.

Cadmus walked the edge of the room, swaying slightly to appear drunk, avoiding the appearance of a turian with a specific objective in mind. After a few minutes, he spied the batarian he was searching for sitting at the back of the room in a private booth chatting up a young asari. Cadmus sucked in a preparatory breath, hoping his acting skills wouldn't reveal he was an amateur. He passed by the booth and stumbled into its table, knocking Forvan's drink into his lap. Forvan cursed loudly and jumped up from the booth.

"I just bought these pants! You know how expensive these are! You'd better hand over credits now or I swear…" Forvan reached down towards his boot. Cadmus knew many batarians carried hidden knives. He preempted Forvan's action by placing a hand on the batarian's shoulder and looking him full in the face.

"Sorry," he slurred out. "Lemme buy you another drink."

All four of Forvan's eyes widened and a look of understanding passed between himself and Cadmus. Forvan's anger instantly diminished. "Alright. I guess you didn't mean to. Sure, buy me a drink."

"You're letting him interrupt?" the asari asked incredulously, obviously upset someone had interfered with their tryst.

Forvan's eyes ran over his companion and Cadmus could tell he didn't want to antagonize her, but he had no choice. "He deserves a break."

"Humph!" the asari intoned and slid out of the booth. "Enjoy your drink with your turian _friend_," she griped, "And _don't_ come looking for me when you're finished." She stomped away from the booth in a huff.

Cadmus slid into one side of the booth and Forvan grumpily occupied the other side. "Hope you're pleased," he grumbled in his gravelly voice as he pulled a cloth out of his pocket and mopped up his spilled drink. "She hadn't ever been laid. Spent most of her early years in a convent. I was close to breaking her will."

Cadmus dropped his tipsy demeanor. "You know if it weren't important, I wouldn't have found you."

Forvan sighed, glancing to the side after the asari, then back at Cadmus. "When will you let me go?"

Cadmus eyed him with a look that proclaimed, "You know the answer to that."

"Never," mumbled Forvan.

Cadmus didn't answer, just affirmed with his eyes. He'd encountered Forvan during one of his first cases in Zakera. The batarian had been caught smuggling for a pirate outfit. However, Forvan was simply a pawn in their game, a lowlife down the line. C-Sec had decided he was more useful to them if he kept his ears open and let them in on criminal news. Forvan had the choice to become an informant or be charged with drug running, arms smuggling and pirate membership. If convicted on all charges, he would have spent most of his life in prison. He'd reluctantly chosen to be a C-Sec lackey. He'd given them information that led to the arrest of several pirates operating on the Citadel. He was allowed to live free—as free as he could anyway with C-Sec constantly checking up on him. If he ever went against them, he knew he'd end up in the prison he'd made the deal to avoid in the first place.

"I've thought about ditching this place. Going to Omega."

"You do, I'll bring you back."

Forvan stared at Cadmus for a second, then broke his gaze, looking to the side. "Right. You would. What is it this time?"

"Do you know the merchants Ghorn Shad'Lih and Taram Thused?"

Forvan fingered his knocked over drinking glass, then set it aright. "I've heard the names."

"Do you know them personally?"

Forvan stared across at Cadmus. "No...not really."

Cadmus folded his arms across his chest and sat straight against the back of his seat. "You _do_ know them."

"They're not friends," Forvan defended himself. "Acquaintances only. They've got the best prices on the station. Most batarians know them."

"Do you know if they're into anything illegal?"

"Like what?"

"You tell me."

"Then be specific."

Cadmus blew an angry breath out his nose. Every time Forvan gave info, he tried to be difficult just to let C-Sec know he didn't appreciate being used by them. Cadmus leaned across the table. "Do you want me to take you to the precinct?"

Forvan's four eyes blinked. "Of course not."

"Then stop hedging and talk."

"They seem clean."

"So they aren't doing anything criminal?"

"I said they _seem_ clean."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "What are they up to?"

"I don't know," Forvan returned honestly. "But they've closed down the store several times over the last few months. They say they're taking vacation days, but I don't think so. I've never seen them at any entertainment venue and trust me, I get around those."

Cadmus believed Forvan definitely did. "Do you know anything more concrete?"

Forvan glanced back out at the bar, then leaned in closer to Cadmus. "I got chatting with Ghorn last time I went to the store. I mentioned him and Taram taking off days. Ghorn said last time they'd gone to Seresima." Cadmus recognized the name. It was a shady place known for its prostitution. C-Sec was regularly raiding it. "But I was there during the time they were gone and I know they never set foot in it."

Cadmus sat back in his seat, thinking. These two partners were lying even to batarians. It bothered him that they didn't want their own knowing what they were up to. The more he heard, the more Cadmus' doubt wore away. His instinct screamed that these two batarians were as dirty as they came. "Do you know how they feel about humans?"

Forvan tilted his head to the right for a moment, then spoke through clenched teeth. "You're protecting humans?"

"Potentially."

Forvan gripped his glass tightly, then picked it up and smacked it hard on the table. "You know we hate them, right?"

Cadmus nodded once.

Forvan drew in a long breath. "I can't believe I'm helping you save humans."

"Do they need saving? What are Shad'Lih and Thused involved in?"

Forvan grimaced angrily. "Wish I knew. I'd help them out."

Cadmus eyed Forvan with a reprimanding stare. "If they plan on attacking Alliance officers…"

Forvan waved a dismissive hand. "I don't think it's that. When they've been gone, it hasn't been when Alliance was here."

"How can you be sure? You remember the dates of their absences that well?"

"Look," Forvan said. "When you hate humans, you know when their military lands on station. They don't come often. Also, Ghorn and Taram don't seem the type to take on trained soldiers."

"So what would they want with humans?"

Forvan put a hand to his chin, considering the question. "I'm not certain." He suddenly looked angrily at Cadmus. "I shouldn't be talking to you."

"If you don't, I'll gladly carry out the consequences."

Forvan twisted his lips, and spoke on grudgingly. "They complain a lot about humans. They're angry they live on the station and say the Council should have kept them off. They call humans the lapdogs of the Council. Ghorn said he'd like nothing better than to choke the life out of a human with his own hands."

"He meant that literally."

Forvan shrugged. "I guess. He acted it out when he told me."

Alarm bells were ringing loudly in Cadmus' brain. Carter's idea of a bomb had seemed outrageous. He still thought it was. It was possible they had spent months building a bomb, but Cadmus didn't sense that in what Forvan told him. It sounded like they wanted personal revenge, a revenge that involved looking into the very eyes of the humans they killed. He sensed in Forvan's words the type of criminal that wanted his victims to know he'd killed them. A bomb lacked the personal element. "Do you think they might be working on an explosive device?"

"Them?" Forvan asked skeptically. "They don't have the skills. At the most, they're backwater thugs, not pirates. I mean, maybe they could come up with something homemade, but I wouldn't expect it out of them."

"Any idea where they've gone?"

Forvan shrugged again. "I don't have any idea and I didn't care enough to figure it out."

Cadmus remembered Carter had last reported he'd seen a human with the batarians. Perhaps they were getting their personal revenge even now. But what about the other times they had disappeared? Were other humans involved? He looked intently at Forvan. "Keep your ears open. Contact me if…"

"Well, well, well. Detective Vakarian consorting with batarians." The voice that interrupted Cadmus grated on his nerves and immediately enraged his emotions. He knew who it was even before he looked up. As he turned, Forvan quickly slid out of his seat and fled into the crowd. Cadmus knew from Forvan's point of view, his status as an informant had just been broadcast loudly into the bar.

"Sit down," Cadmus growled at the human that had approached the booth.

"Oh. You want to command me do you? I'm not on duty. I don't have to take orders from you."

Cadmus reached up and gripped Harkin's wrist tightly, pulling him towards the table. Harkin tried to wrench his hand away, but his strength was infinitesimal compared to Cadmus'. "You _will_ obey me. Sit, now."

"Get off me! I'll tell them you aren't as squeaky clean as they think you are. C-Sec will throw your ass out off the force faster than your mother can suck your father's…"

Cadmus didn't need to hear the rest of the analogy. Even with a lack of understanding human phrases, he could guess where it was going. He abruptly stood, grasped Harkin by the arm and hauled him around the edge of the room, walking so fast, he dragged the human behind him.

"Help! I'm under assault! Help!" Cadmus took pleasure in Harkin's sudden fear and appearance of cowardice. He sounded like a scared child. It was a testimony to the wretchedness of Heged's Wrath that no one came to Harkin's defense. Patrons simply watched as they passed and Cadmus' anger grew richer. So much for trying to go undercover. Harkin's antics had brought all eyes to bear on them. He could only hope he wouldn't be recognized before he left the bar. He made it to the bar doors in record time. He exited, still pulling Harkin along. He rounded a corner into a dark alley. No one was present. He slammed Harkin against the wall, pinning him with one hand still gripping his arm and his other pushed against the human's throat. Harkin struggled to breathe and slapped with his free hand at Cadmus' forearm across his windpipe, trying to break his hold. He didn't realize Cadmus wasn't trying to harm him, simply to shut him up.

"I just want you to listen, so stop struggling and pay attention." Harkin gradually calmed and gazed fearfully up into Cadmus' face.

"I was just undercover in there. That batarian is a valuable informant. If anyone's job is at stake, it's yours. We lose him and your career in C-Sec is over." Cadmus felt Harkin swallow under his forearm. He continued to speak. "I've been warned you hate me. You can hate me all you want. But you hurt me or my family and you'll find yourself facing years of hard work in a turian labor camp. I'll make sure of it." He stared into Harkin's terrified eyes and leaned close in so his breath fell over his face. "I'm going to let you go and you're going to walk away and not look back. You don't, I'll take you to the Executor right now and we'll have it out in front of him. And to be fair, I'll let you know he's a personal friend of mine." Cadmus stepped back and let go of the terrified human officer.

Harkin rubbed his neck and coughed roughly. He spoke hoarsely. "You going to report on me again?"

"I haven't decided," Cadmus spoke hotly. "No more words. Get out of here."

Harkin stood up straight and stumbled out of the alleyway. Cadmus watched him from the darkness. He didn't look back once and left the area in an elevator. It was then a thought came to Cadmus. What had Harkin been doing in Heged's Wrath in the first place? Was he stalking him? But it seemed like he'd just happened to see Cadmus in the bar. Cadmus' mandibles tightened against his jaw as he thought. Harkin was wicked through and through. Cadmus projected in less than a year he'd be out of C-Sec and good riddance.

* * *

Cadmus skimmed through security reports on humans that had come to the Citadel. He was back in his office now. He'd called Laelia and let her know he was working and he didn't know when he would get back home. Everything in his being begged him to bring this case to a conclusion ASAP. Still, he hadn't called his team back in. A small fear at the back of his mind worried they would come in for nothing. He wanted to be certain of his suspicions first.

Cadmus tagged another report. So far he had found three reports about missing humans on the Citadel. Friends of the humans had reported each of them missing when they hadn't turned up after several days. C-Sec had done some searching, but each file concluded that as the missing human was known for transience, it was likely he or she had left the station, probably under an assumed name. It was a trait of human wanderers, Cadmus well knew. Humans who didn't want to be found would show up on the Citadel, then leave with a different name. Sometimes they were tracked down simply through ID photos and you could connect the different names. He couldn't help thinking about Aiolus then, who years ago now had used a false name, a turian crime. Acquiring a false name, Cadmus had learned, wasn't a crime for humans unless you used it for some kind of illicit gain. So, it wasn't erroneous for C-Sec to conclude the missing weren't really missing. But what if…

Cadmus found another missing human report. Then another. Five in total. All missing in the last six months. Only one of them mentioned the last time a human female had been seen she had been talking to a batarian. That in itself was odd. Humans and batarians never mixed. Cadmus stared at his computer screen and linked his talons under his chin. What if…

He flashed on his tool and began to tap furiously, calling up not only his own team, but Gratus' as well. It might still be nothing, but his gut told him it wasn't. They couldn't wait on this. If he got raked over the coals for sending the teams on a futile chase, so be it. It was better to go on the hunt and come back empty handed, than not go and realize later a predatory beast had slipped by unchallenged.

* * *

Within thirty minutes time, all members of the teams had arrived. Gratus wasn't happy he'd been pulled away from his own personal matters. He stood in front of Cadmus' desk challenging his assessment of the situation. "You call us in over _five_ missing humans? Five? That's insignificant."

Cadmus stood as well, face to face with Gratus. "One of the reports mentions the human in contact with a batarian."

"So what. There are hundreds of batarians on station. There's bound to be one nice one that chats up a human now and then."

There was a loud snort and Gratus snapped his head to Tychus, leaning against the wall. "You want to say something, say it."

"A _nice_ batarian? That makes friends with humans? The likelihood of that is nil."

"I concur with Tychus," Joran put in his two bits. "Having observed batarian interactions with humans, they are 100% antagonistic."

"Sir," Denae spoke, rising from her seat and moving next to her superior. "What does it hurt to check it out? If there _is_ something amiss…"

"You all love him, don't you?" Gratus questioned harshly, staring around the room. "You worship at his feet and if he thinks you should do it, you do it. It's degrading." He looked back at Cadmus. "Your suspicions are unfounded and you have no authority to make us participate in your illusions. I'm leaving." Gratus stomped towards the door, paused and looked back. "And anyone on my team who wants to keep their job _better_ come with me." The two turians on Gratus' team looked between themselves, then at Denae and slowly left. Denae stood rooted to the spot and turned to Cadmus.

"You'll risk your job?" Cadmus asked, not wanting to force Denae onto Gratus' bad side.

"He already hates me. I don't think I could do anything more to make it worse." She smiled ruefully at Cadmus. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Cadmus sent each of his team members and Denae to interview those who had reported the missing humans. He ordered them to pull the witnesses out of bed if they had to. As there were only five of them to cover the bases, Cadmus himself had to track down one of the reports. He now approached a Presidium restaurant. It had just closed for the night, but he hoped he could catch the human he was looking for. He'd tried the human's apartment only to be told by his roommate that he worked as a cook in the Presidium at a fairly new human restaurant. Perhaps he would still be there cleaning up.

Cadmus palmed the panel next to the closed door. It swooshed open after a few seconds and a middle-aged man in a suit answered. His eyes widened in surprise to see a turian standing at his door. "Can I…help you?"

"Detective Chief Cadmus Vakarian," Cadmus introduced himself, thrusting out his hand. The man slowly took his offered hand and shook it. Cadmus was careful this time not to squeeze too tightly. "I'm looking for Josef Reese."

"Uh…" the man glanced over his shoulder into the restaurant.

"He's not in trouble," Cadmus explained in response to the man's hesitation. "I'm working a case and have a question about a report he made."

"Just a moment." The door shut and the man disappeared. After about a minute's time, the door opened again and a dark skinned, tall, thin young man stepped out covered in a white apron and rubbing his hands together nervously.

"You need me?"

"You can understand my questions?"

"My boss gave me his translator."

"I need to ask you about your friend, Sallie Harker."

"Oh. Okay." The young man leaned back against the restaurant wall and pulled out a white pack. He drew out a thin tube, broke off one end and stuck it in his mouth. Cadmus watched as he sucked on it, then blew out white smoke. He cocked his head. The young man followed his eyes to the tube in his hand. "Oh. Yeah, it's a cigarette. It's not an oldie, not carcinogenic, I promise."

Cadmus didn't understand most of the young man's words. The device was something human and he forged ahead, not concerning himself with the man's "cigarette." "You reported she had been talking to a batarian before her disappearance."

"Yeah," the young man said, sucking a moment on the cigarette again and blowing out a stream of white. He laughed slightly. "Sallie always had a soft spot for sob cases."

"What do you mean by 'sob cases'?" Cadmus made a mental note as he asked his question to make sure he committed a human dictionary to memory in the near future.

"Ah…yeah, I forget different languages. She's always wanted to help people. It doesn't matter their race. This batarian told her he had a sick wife and kid and couldn't get the money to get them on station for medical help. I told her it was a scam, but she didn't listen. She said she planned to meet him. I walked her to the meeting, but he got nervous around me and Sallie asked me to leave. That's the last I saw her…except…"

Cadmus inclined his head. So far, everything Reese had said was in the report. "Except…"

"Well, I did get a message from her later. Said she'd decided to go home."

"Home. Earth?"

"Eden Prime. But, her sister called me and said she'd tried to reach Sallie and couldn't. She hadn't gone home for sure."

"Why didn't you report this?"

The young man pushed off the wall and swayed back and forth nervously. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but when I went to C-Sec, I don't think you turians cared. The officer acted like _I_ was a criminal for reporting it. I didn't really see the point."

Cadmus drew in a slow breath. Rawls had said turians seemed emotionless to humans. He supposed that was somewhat true. Humans displayed their emotions openly, turians prized the ability to keep their emotions under control, especially in public. Cadmus realized their biology also played a role in misunderstanding. Humans couldn't read the subtle emotional suggestions of turian mandible movements and turians didn't possess the complex facial muscles that humans used to express their feelings. Thus, turians probably did appear uncaring even if they weren't. It wasn't surprising that the young human hadn't felt able to report the message, but it was unfortunate nonetheless. "Where did you take her to meet the batarian?"

"Some club in the Lower Wards. It had a weird name. Spiral something?"

Cadmus turned on his tool, tapped and then held it out to Reese. "Do either of these batarians look familiar?"

Reese leaned over the tool. "I _think_ maybe that one." He pointed to Ghorn Shad'Lih. "But I'm not really sure. It's hard to tell batarians apart."

Cadmus held out his hand again. "Thank you for your time."

"Sure." The young man shook his hand. Cadmus turned to walk away, but the young man spoke again. "If you find out what happened to her…uh…Will you let me know?"

Cadmus looked back and read worry in the young man's eyes. "I will," he confirmed, then turned on his heel headed back to his office.

* * *

When Cadmus' team and Denae met back up in his office, they reported their findings. Three of the missing humans had last been seen in or near a club called Spiral Revolution. The other two had been headed to the Lower Wards. Cadmus eyed Tychus, the last to report. "Still think this is nothing?"

Tychus set his jaw, then slowly shook his head. "This doesn't look good."

"I agree," Denae said. She had been pacing back and forth in the room.

"Do you think they're dead?" Asheel asked. He stood at the back of the room, arms folded over his chest.

"It is most likely," Joran reported matter-of-factly. "What good is revenge if you do not kill your victims?"

Tychus snorted. "There are other ways to get revenge, Joran. Torture for one."

Cadmus stood up from behind his desk. "I want to know where these batarians are and what they did with these humans," he uttered defiantly.

"Then let's find them," Tychus said loudly. "I'll call enforcement."

"No." It was Denae who objected. Tychus looked to her, then Cadmus, confused.

"Explain," Cadmus asked Denae.

"If you send out enforcement, they'll storm Zakera. What better way to give Shad'Lih and Thused a heads up they've been found out than a swarm of C-Sec officers looking for them? They'll be underground faster than we can catch them."

Cadmus scratched a mandible with a talon. "True. We'll go ourselves. We start at the club, ask if anyone recognizes them, let each other know what we find. When we are certain we've got them in our sights, we hold back and call enforcement to bring them down. Got it?" A chorus of affirmative "Sir"s echoed throughout the room.

* * *

Cadmus stayed in the shadows of Spiral Revolution, peering at the patrons he passed, looking for two specific batarian faces in a sea of hundreds. The club was extensive, a perfect place to meet up with someone then slip out unnoticed. They had been in the club for over twenty minutes, and still no sign of their targets. Cadmus glanced up at the balcony that ran around the top of the club. He sighted Denae moving slowly.

"Sir?" Asheel's voice came through Cadmus' comm.

"Go ahead."

"One of the bartenders says the batarians come here often, though he hasn't seen them in a week."

"Keep asking."

"Yes, sir."

Cadmus spied a couple batarians sitting at a nearby table. He walked up casually and gazed down at them. They both looked up and one growled out, "What are you looking at?" Neither were Shad'Lih or Thused.

"Excuse me," Cadmus apologized quickly, moving on.

"Nothing on my end," Tychus' voice sounded in Cadmus' comm. "I'm heading back to the door."

"I'm almost done with the north side of the balcony," Denae said. "No sign of them."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed in irritation. If they struck out here, the next step would be canvassing all of Zakera. At that point, they would be forced to bring in enforcement. If the batarians went underground, so be it. They would just have to root them out.

"I have found them." Cadmus started at Joran's staccato voice.

"Where?" he asked quickly.

"Balcony east."

Cadmus moved towards the stairs to the balcony, crossing the room. "What are they doing?"

"They are talking to a human male."

Cadmus slowed down his pace. "Describe what you see, Joran."

"The human is drunk. The batarians are sitting next to him. They are rising now, pulling the human along. I believe they mean to leave the club."

"Stop them, Joran!" came Tychus' voice. Cadmus sighted Tychus who had almost reached the stairs.

"Belay that order!" Cadmus almost shouted into his comm, causing nearby patrons to gaze on him curiously.

"Sir…" Tychus' insistent voice spoke.

"Joran, keep them in your sights. We're going to follow them. They might be leading us to the scene of their crimes."

"Yes, sir," Joran replied. "They are exiting the upper level. I will follow them."

"Denae…" Cadmus began.

"I see Joran. I'm catching up to him."

Cadmus reached the stairs the same time as Tychus. Asheel showed up a couple seconds after. "Both of you, exit through the lower level. Watch them from below. If they sense us following them, I want you to block an escape."

"Yes, sir," Tychus and Asheel agreed and headed out the door. Cadmus ascended the steps to the balcony two at a time. He made for the second floor exit. When he stepped into the dimly lit hall outside he saw Denae's back, then several feet ahead, Joran, and finally, a few feet in front of him the departing figures of two batarians and a human male who was being supported between them. Cadmus increased his pace, coming up beside Denae.

"Enforcement?" Denae whispered.

Cadmus clenched his jaw. "You're right. Enforcement has no grasp of subtlety. We call them in now, the batarians drop the human and flee." Cadmus breathed harshly out his nose. "There are two of them and five of us. We have the advantage. We see where they go, _then_ we call in security."

"I concur," Denae agreed. The batarians had reached an elevator. Cadmus looked over the rail below and sighted Tychus and Asheel.

"Tychus, Asheel, get on that elevator when it comes down. Make them believe you're off duty and no threat."

The batarians entered the elevator with the human in tow. Joran stopped in front of it as the door closed and turned, waiting for Denae and Cadmus to keep up. Cadmus' comm came to life with sounds of Tychus and Asheel chatting.

"He slugged you right in the gut?" Asheel asked.

"It was a lucky punch," Tychus grumbled in return. "I could have taken him down in a minute."

"Didn't you win your last competition?"

"Of course. I have another next week. I'll get my revenge then."

They sounded slightly wooden, and Cadmus hoped the batarians didn't notice. They continued to talk about combat sports. After a time, there was the sound of jostling, fabric on fabric. "Hey! Watch it!" Tychus reprimanded.

"Sorry," a distinctly batarian voice came through the comm. "Friend got drunk."

"Anyway, about the fight…" Tychus went on. There was a moment of silence and then he spoke again. "Looks like they're headed to Zakera."

Cadmus nodded his head. "Their base of operations as Carter said."

Tychus' humbled voice came back. "The crazy human was right all along."

"Follow at a distance," Cadmus commanded as the elevator door opened in front of him. "We'll catch up to you."

* * *

When Cadmus, Denae and Joran joined Tychus and Asheel again, they found them stationed across from a store in Zakera.

"Where are they?" Cadmus demanded.

Tychus pointed. "They went in their store and shut the door. They haven't come out."

"I checked it out," Asheel reported. "There's no back exit."

Cadmus stared at the storefront. "Now we call in enforcement." He tapped on his tool to connect to the Captain of Zakera, but was stopped when a garbled yell emanated from the store. Cadmus and his officers were the only current occupants in the area. It was early morning hours now and most inhabitants of the ward were asleep. Cadmus reached behind his back and unhooked the rifle he'd brought along. "Correction. Now we go in."

Cadmus stalked towards the storefront door, followed by his officers and Denae. All of them had drawn their weapons. The door didn't open when he reached it and he gestured for Asheel who clicked on his tool and went to work. In seconds, the technical officer had it unlocked and the door slid open. Cadmus held his gun up, and moved quickly into the store, swinging this way and that. He clicked on the light mounted on his rifle as the store was dark. He passed rows of shelves and aisles. He noted the other officers scouring the store as well. It took less than thirty seconds to canvas the entire store.

"They're gone," Tychus muttered unbelievingly when they met up on the far side of the store.

"I've got something!" It was Asheel's voice that called out. Cadmus kept his gun at the ready and moved in Asheel's direction. He was standing behind the clerk's desk. He pointed downwards when Cadmus reached him. There was a hole in the floor and an apparent cover pulled back. Denae knelt down to take a closer look.

"They must have burned through the floor," she commented, swinging the lid back and forth on a hinge. It was uneven around the edges, not the product of skilled workmanship. She looked up at Cadmus.

"I'm going down. Joran, get enforcement here. Wait for them. The rest of you, follow me." Cadmus kneeled down to stare into the hole. He pushed his rifle inside, peeking down to see what was below. A slew of struts and beams met his eyes. He'd never seen the bowels of the station before. It looked like a maze, but even so, a clear path had been established. Apparently, the batarians had cut various struts, making it easier to navigate their underground hiding place. Cadmus sat down and swung his legs into the hole, then slid down. He had to hunch over in the cramped underbelly of the store. He paced ahead a few feet and heard several thumps behind him as Denae, Tychus and Asheel came behind.

Cadmus moved slowly. He hated that he had to keep his light on. He didn't want the batarians to know they were coming, but without the light it would be impossible to see where they were headed. After several minutes, Cadmus heard a voice shout, "No! Please! Stop!" It was a frantic, begging voice—a human voice. Cadmus saw a light ahead. He extinguished his own and looked behind to his officers, who followed suit. He crept slowly forward. The path ended where a dim light began. Cadmus stopped at the end of the path, listening intently.

"Shut up!" he heard a batarian voice.

"No one can hear you anyway," another said.

"Why…why you doing this?" the human voice asked plaintively. "Please…I got family."

"Not here," the first batarian voice said. He then laughed maniacally. "You're ours now."

Cadmus heard a strangled cry. He swung out from the path and aimed his rifle towards the voices. He took in the sight in a split second. The batarians both stood over the human. One of them held the human with his arms behind his back, the other hefted a syringe, posed to stick it in the human's arm. "Drop it!" he yelled. The batarians turned sharply, eight eyes going wide in shock. Cadmus moved towards them, allowing Denae, Tychus and Asheel to exit the path and train their weapons on the batarians as well.

One of them that Cadmus recognized as Ghorn cried out angrily. He dropped the syringe and reached for his boot. Cadmus fired a shot, striking Ghorn in the arm. The batarian cried out, but still managed to pull out a pistol. He shot several times erratically towards the approaching officers. Cadmus heard a groan. Glancing behind, he saw Asheel slip to the floor, dark blue blood pouring down his right mandible. He felt sudden live energy to his right and Ghorn was caught in a vortex. Denae stood with her hand outstretched, creating a biotic whirlwind. She lowered her hand and Ghorn flew several feet, crashing into solid struts. He slumped to the ground, winded and groaning.

Cadmus trained his rifle on Thused. "Want to try me?"

Thused gulped, shook his head and let go of the human. Tychus rushed up and grabbed Thused's arms, twisting them behind his back, causing him to grimace in pain. Denae had moved over to Ghorn, shadowing him. Cadmus turned back, rushing to Asheel, who sat on the ground cradling the side of his head. "Joran!" Cadmus spoke into his comm. "We need medical now!" He looked down at his technical officer. "Asheel…"

"I'm gonna make it," Asheel groaned. "Don't make me talk. Hurts."

Cadmus smiled grimly, proud of Asheel's stamina. He turned back to the human sitting on the floor, looking foggily around at the C-Sec officers that had just come to his rescue. Cadmus reached down and pulled him to his feet. "Are you alright?"

"I guess so…" the human stammered. The alcohol on his breath was potent. He swiveled his eyes to the left. "They got others."

Cadmus followed the human's eyes. Another path had been cut. He lowered the human to the floor. In his state, he certainly couldn't stand on his own. Cadmus walked down the path, bringing his rifle back up, ready for anything. When he reached the end of the second path a gut wrenching sight met his eyes. A sort of room had been cleared away and around its edge were five crudely constructed cages, all but one housing a human. They didn't react to Cadmus' presence, just stared at him dully. He could tell they were drugged. He approached the nearest cage and knelt down. A human woman lay inside with her hand extended outside the cage. She turned her head as he approached. Her green eyes looked hollow, scared, even in her medicated state. She tried to move, but couldn't. Her hand jerked feebly. Cadmus took it, grasping it gently. He tried to comfort her the same way he would have Laelia. "You're safe," Cadmus spoke to her. "I'm C-Sec."

The woman didn't say anything. He realized she probably hadn't understood a word he'd said. He certainly didn't think the batarians had equipped her with a translator. His eyes ran over the rest of her emaciated frame. She looked like nothing but bone, lying naked, utterly exposed. But what caught his eye more than anything were the numerous bruises and cuts that adorned her body. A dark ring around her neck indicated she'd been choked numerous times. Cadmus' blood boiled. These two batarians had certainly got their personal revenge. He looked over at the other caged humans. All of them exhibited injuries. He spied what he guessed was a broken and badly reset bone on one of them. He looked back down at the woman in the cage. She was the only female. He guessed she was Sallie Harker, but he would never have known it except by elimination. She looked nothing like her ID photo. She was only a wounded skeleton.

Cadmus made to let go of her hand, but she suddenly gripped it with a strength he didn't think she could have mustered. She said nothing, but he read fear in her eyes, fear that she would be left as prey again. Cadmus gently pried her fingers off his hand. "I will return," he assured, infusing as much compassion as he could into his voice. He stood and moved back down the path.

Enforcement had arrived. They had taken possession of Shad'Lih and Thused who were now cuffed and guarded. Cadmus eyed them furiously as he hurried down the other hall to the medical personnel tending to Asheel. "There are four humans down there that need immediate attention," Cadmus reported. The salarian doctor nodded and began barking orders to his staff who started in the direction Cadmus indicated.

Cadmus stood next to Asheel, watching the doctor bandage his wound. Tychus suddenly appeared. He came and stood next to Cadmus, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes troubled.

"You alright?" Cadmus asked.

Tychus turned his head to his superior and spoke with complete transparency. "When you see them like that…it's hard to keep hating them. No one deserves that."

Cadmus looked back to the other path, thinking about the four humans, tortured, beaten, injured in secret, some of them for months. Tychus was right. Seeing humans as victims challenged most turians' views of them. The complaints of human arrogance and inferiority were suddenly silenced by the power of suffering.

* * *

Cadmus returned home just as the Presidium began to illuminate for a new day. He'd filed the required reports on the batarians' arrests and their subsequent confessions. Tychus had easily gotten the truth out of them. They hated that humans had been allowed to occupy the Citadel. Their ire had turned into a plan at first joked about, then eventually brought to fruition. As Cadmus had observed the interrogation, his anger had grown into full blown wrath. The batarians talked matter-of-factly with a complete disregard for the lives they'd ruined. It was clear they thought of the humans as nothing but fodder for their perverse sense of justice. They'd been charged with a slew of crimes, the worst murder. A body had been found and identified only by DNA as the first human who'd gone missing. The human the batarians had brought to the store from the club was to be his replacement.

Cadmus had never been so glad to see the door to his apartment open. He wanted nothing but the arms of his wife and the laughter of his children. He stepped through and immediately saw Laelia asleep on the couch. He walked over, knelt down and tenderly caressed the side of her neck. Her eyelids fluttered open as she awoke. She pushed herself up. "I must have dosed," she excused herself. "I was waiting for you." Cadmus rose and sat down next to her on the couch.

"First human case," he explained.

"Oh. First human criminal or victim?"

Cadmus sighed deeply and put his hands to the back of his neck, massaging it for a moment. "Victims."

"Was it that bad?" Laelia asked. Laelia always read his eyes as if they were books.

"It wasn't worse than anything I'd seen before," Cadmus said, which was true. He'd seen bodies and injuries aplenty.

"But…"

Cadmus looked over at her. "It wasn't the injuries. It was the reason for them." Laelia leaned her head on his shoulder. She didn't press him to say anymore and for that, Cadmus was grateful. Although he'd handled hundreds of cases by now, none of them had involved torturing a being for the pure pleasure of it. It was the most heinous of motives in his mind. He wanted to see the wheels of justice crush the batarian perpetrators and hoped execution was in their future. They needed to be wiped out of the galaxy permanently. He was confident Citadel justice would weigh heavily upon them.

Cadmus turned on his omni-tool and began to tap away.

"What is it?" Laelia asked, sitting back up again.

"I have a couple e-mails I need to send." There was a plaintive cry from the bedroom hallway.

"Solana," Laelia said. She stood and left the room to comfort her daughter.

Cadmus tapped a message first to Reese letting him know his friend had been found and he could visit her at Jergen Hospital. Then he sent Zachary Carter a message. He owed the older human an e-mail letting him know he'd been right all along. Just as Cadmus sent the second e-mail, Garrus stumbled out of the hallway and crawled up next to him on the couch, having been awakened by his crying sister.

"Hi, dad," he yawned out.

"Garrus…" Cadmus said quietly, commanding his son's attention. Garrus looked up at him. "I want you to treat every being you meet with respect. It doesn't matter their species. You never turn them into trash to be trampled on. Never."

Garrus blinked his eyes at his father. Cadmus figured he'd just said something entirely odd to his son, especially first thing in the morning. He thought back to Harkin. The human was a disgusting menace to C-Sec—but Cadmus hadn't had a single thought of revenge in his mind. He knew too well that justice would catch up with the human eventually just as it had the batarians. He didn't need to torture Harkin to make justice occur. The batarians had let their lust for revenge run away with them. They'd subverted lawful courses of action to force humans to submit to their own corrupted wills.

"What I mean is," Cadmus explained. "You let justice run its course. You let yourself be ruled by it and you fight for it, but don't ever manipulate it to fit your own views of what's right."

Garrus blinked again. Cadmus sighed inwardly. He wasn't good at expressing philosophical notions, especially to a child. Garrus yawned again. "Dad? What's for breakfast?"

Cadmus clenched his jaw. He could only hope that the things he said to his son made their way inside his brain somehow, ready to come out when they were most needed.


	20. Discipline

Cadmus tapped out a final message on his omni-tool as his shuttle descended into Palaven's atmosphere. He harbored mixed feelings about his current leave. It was good to get a break, but he had his hands full as head of the 3rd precinct's detective squads in Zakera. Three years ago Decimus had marched down to the precinct and announced in front of its staff that Lazarin was retiring and Cadmus would take his place. Gratus was livid. He'd worked in the precinct longer than Cadmus by far. He hadn't said a word, of course, with the Executor present, but Cadmus read the anger in his clacking mandibles and fiery eyes. Decimus had then pulled Cadmus aside and asked who he recommended to fill his position. Cadmus, still reeling from his unexpected promotion, had requested time to reflect. Decimus gave him until mid-afternoon.

Lazarin had given Cadmus a tour of his new, spacious office, formerly Lazarin's, and explained its files and amenities. He'd then gone over several cases, bringing Cadmus up to speed. Cadmus finally managed time to think after lunch when Lazarin departed wishing him well. He sat at his new desk, gazing around the room. He was proud, but also humbled. This was an honor he hadn't expected to receive so soon.

Cadmus leaned back in the cushy chair behind the large desk and closed his eyes, pondering. He knew who he wanted to replace him—the trouble was he didn't know how his team would take it. He thought for certain they would expect one of them to be chosen, probably Tychus, but Cadmus didn't think any of them had the skills for leadership. Tychus was too easily provoked. He was action-oriented and rarely thoughtful. Asheel, on the other hand, was _too_ contemplative. He sat behind the scenes, content to think and do his job, never taking initiative. Joran was out of the question. He still stumbled over social issues and his ideas went every which way. He needed a good leader to reign him in and direct his thoughts.

In the end, Cadmus had thought it best to call in his team and speak to them personally. He started by telling them how much he appreciated their loyalty and their skill. He insisted they were exactly where they needed to be to honor C-Sec and the precinct. For that reason, he would not be choosing any of them to take over the team. Joran, as Cadmus expected, wasn't fazed. Asheel's mandibles fluttered in surprise, but not anger. Tychus clenched and unclenched his jaw for a moment, then asked who it was. Cadmus said shortly, "Denae." There was a moment of silence, then Joran agreed whole-heartedly with Cadmus' choice, Asheel chimed in with confirmation and Tychus only nodded, ready to accept the asari as his leader because Cadmus commanded it.

After his team left, Cadmus called in Denae and gave her the news. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. Two years before she had thought she would lose her job when she worked with Cadmus on the captive humans case. But the successful conclusion stopped Gratus from demanding she be fired. Still, he had made life as miserable as possible for her on his team. Now Cadmus was removing her from Gratus' clutches and elevating her, making her Gratus' equal. She implied he wouldn't be happy and Cadmus had said that he didn't care and if Gratus did anything or said anything, she could let him know and he'd take care of it.

Cadmus peered over another turian's head, trying to assess how close the shuttle was to touching down. He looked back at his tool. He'd sent some more instructions to Denae who was running the precinct for the duration of his leave. She kept him apprised of all current cases and their developments. Cadmus knew Laelia hated that work came home with him now. But Cadmus wouldn't cut off communication. He had a duty to the teams and the precinct. He'd spoken too gruffly one leave about it when Laelia complained. Ever since, she'd maintained her silence on the issue. Over time, she stopped glaring at him when he excused himself for hours on end to deal with work via e-mails and video calls. She'd come to accept his job as it was and navigate around it the best she could.

As the shuttle touched down, Cadmus clicked off his tool. Laelia might not complain as she used to, but he didn't want to cause her undue frustration on his first day back home in five months. The time between his leaves had increased due to the pressure he was under at the precinct. His leave was never regular now. It depended on the status and importance of his cases. Cadmus did regularly make video calls to keep up with his family. Now as he stood to exit the shuttle, he found his heart beating in anticipation. He might not have liked leaving work behind, but he did like coming home. To see his family in the flesh was invaluable.

The moment Cadmus stepped off the shuttle he spied Laelia standing in the spaceport waiting for him, dressed in an attractive maroon suit. He thought then maybe he should have spruced up a bit. He'd only worn his C-Sec casual for the duration of his travel. He approached her, grinning in return as her mouth opened in a wide smile. When he reached her, he set down his bag and gripped her shoulders. "It's good to be home."

Laelia nodded. "It's been too long."

"It has," Cadmus agreed. He pulled her into him and embraced her, breathing deeply and treasuring her smell. He let her go and picked up his bag as she took his free hand, pulling him along to a waiting speeder with a chauffer in the driver's seat. "No children?"

Laelia shook her head quickly, then moved to the other side of the speeder. She got in and Cadmus followed suit, his mind troubled. Their children were Laelia's life. Usually she gushed about them. The fact that she had decided to be mum concerned him. He contemplated Laelia's visage as the speeder got underway. She was definitely worried. She was twisting her talons together and too interested in the scenery.

"Why are you so quiet?" Cadmus asked directly.

Laelia turned her gaze to him. "Am I? I'm sorry. Just contemplative today."

Cadmus didn't buy her excuse for a moment. He was about to challenge her, but she began to talk about her friends, Arsenius and his wife and their now eight children, her mother and father and even his mother and father and all the family happenings. He could tell she was stalling, searching for anything to talk about to keep him from digging for answers. Finally, when they were close to home, Cadmus held up his hand and asked her to pause to breathe. When she did, he looked her straight in the eye. "Something is wrong. Tell me."

Laelia's eyes flickered to the chauffer. Cadmus reached over and pressed a button. A divider rose closing off their conversation from being overheard. It was a new feature of private speeders in the last couple years, copied from human vehicles. Cadmus liked it—its privacy was thoroughly turian in nature. "What is it?"

Laelia took a breath and smoothed out her pants, looking down at them. "There was an incident with the children."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "What did they do?"

Laelia looked over at him, her eyes pleading for him to restrain initial anger. "Solana has been facing…taunting from her peers."

"Typical for children." Solana was now six.

"Yes, but these children are larger and stronger than her."

"Did they hurt her?"

"They cornered her in an alcove, called her names, spit on her and shoved her to the ground. She was not hurt physically."

Cadmus sucked in another breath. The other children had, of course, acted dishonorably. But Solana was fine. "Did you report them?"

Laelia's mandibles flexed nervously. "I didn't know about it. She didn't tell me."

Cadmus held back a smile. _That_ was his daughter. She was strong and resolute, stubborn and unyielding. She had the ability to bear up under trial. "How did you become aware of the incident?"

Laelia wrung her hands. "I received a call last night from the mother of one of the children who mistreated her. She was quite angry."

Cadmus' eyes narrowed again, Laelia's tone revealing something untoward had taken place. "Why?"

"You must understand, Cadmus, that Garrus was simply protecting his sister. He didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Cadmus scowled. "Details."

Laelia breathed out slowly. "Garrus found Solana. She was upset and scared. He took her home and then…he found the other children and…one of them had to go to the hospital. The child wasn't hurt too badly, just a few fractured plates, a wrist sprain. He'll heal quickly." Laelia spoke the last couple sentences swiftly, with a tone of defense.

Cadmus clenched his jaw and balled up his hands into fists. So, his son had decided revenge was the answer rather than lawful means. It was typical Garrus. In crisis, he felt and acted before thinking. It made him a formidable foe, but an inferior turian. "What did you tell this mother?"

Laelia blinked her eyes apprehensively. "I told her his father was coming home and would handle it."

Cadmus nodded. He would. He was glad Laelia saw fit to let him.

"Be understanding, Cadmus," Laelia implored. "Garrus wasn't trying to…"

"Yes, he was," Cadmus shot back. "He wanted them to pay for what they did to his sister and he made them pay. He meant to hurt them."

Laelia firmed up her jaw and her eyes smoldered. "He was concerned when I told him one of them went to the hospital."

"He said so?"

"He didn't say it, but I can read it in his face."

"You should not defend him."

"I'm not defending the results or the action, but I do understand his motivation."

"It doesn't matter. He lost control. He must learn to control himself. It is the foundation of turian loyalty and duty."

"But…"

Cadmus interrupted, snapping, "I assume these were Solana's classmates. Are you telling me our son, eleven, hurt and degraded six year olds?"

Laelia swallowed and turned her head to look out the window. "Only one was six. Two were seven. The one at the hospital was eight." Cadmus could tell she knew this information didn't make it any better.

"Our son took advantage of his age and strength and used it as a tool for vengeance."

Laelia kept looking out the window. Their house had appeared. "Can you…for me…at least think about how to handle it before you deal with him?"

Cadmus felt like all he wanted to do was march into the house, find Garrus and inflict his own father's way of dealing with egregious misbehavior—a stout rod to the offender's arms and legs. But Cadmus had realized early on in Garrus' childhood that his son didn't respond well to physical punishment. It did nothing but steel his resolve and convince him he was a martyr. Perhaps physical punishment would be appropriate in this circumstance, but Cadmus wanted Garrus to _learn,_ not just suffer. He wanted his son to admit his wrong, understand why he was wrong, make restitution and change. In effect, he wanted to reach Garrus' heart and mind, not just punish his body. Like it or not, Cadmus decided it would be best to take Laelia's suggestion and give the matter some thought before he called his son to account.

The minute Cadmus arrived home he dropped his bags with a civil servant and made for his office, sequestering himself for the time being. He wanted to ruminate over Garrus' actions and determine an appropriate response. For the thousandth time, he wished he had a more consistent hand in his son's upbringing. Laelia was a good mother, but she was still a soft-hearted female. Her sympathy caused her to go too light at times on her children. Still, Cadmus refused to consider transferring back to Palaven. The Citadel needed him and he obliged out of loyalty and his own personal desire for challenge and success. For this reason, he had to take advantage of every opportunity he had to guide Garrus down the straight and narrow. This event had given him such an opportunity.

Cadmus thought of his son, how similar and disparate they were. Garrus had a fire burning in his heart that couldn't be quenched and often caught others in its wake when it was inflamed. Cadmus' fire was just as strong, but directed towards well-thought out objectives. It was honed and steady. As well, Cadmus, a cop, had a commitment to law and justice. He wanted to see wrongs righted in the right way. What good was it to do wrong to defeat wrong? In doing so, you became the very wrong you hated. Garrus didn't seem to understand this. He had that strong sense of justice, but he wanted justice in any way possible, even the wrong way if it brought about the conclusion he sought. He wished Garrus could see the value and purpose in law and why it was vital to follow it. He wished he could see the results of subverting it, even for a good cause.

Cadmus paused, an idea forming in his mind. He reached out to the computer on his desk and tapped, putting in a call to an old friend. Perhaps there was a visual way for Garrus to understand the effect of one's actions better than he could ever explain.

* * *

Cadmus stepped into Solana's room. She was sitting on her bed with her back to him wearing a simple, high necked blue dress. Her posture was straight as a board. She had a data pad in her hand and he assumed she was reading. Solana had been reading since she was three. She had a gift for study; she adored languages and history. She excelled above her peers which was probably the reason for their torment. Her excellence threatened others unable to achieve what she could. Cadmus guessed jealousy clung to them like a disease. Cadmus cleared his throat, causing his daughter to turn her head. She dropped her data pad on the bed and called out, "Dad!" She held out a hand to him. Cadmus walked over and sat down next to her, taking her small hand in his.

"What are you reading?" Cadmus asked.

Solana's bright blue eyes moved to the data pad. "Mythology."

Cadmus picked up the pad, skimming it. It was the mythical story of how mighty titans walked Palaven in the past, some aiding and some ailing the newly born turians. In particular, this story explained the gift of the first carapace, a blessing bestowed by a titan for a turian named Selvaen's help. Cadmus placed the pad back on the bed. "Do you like it?"

Solana nodded. "It's interesting. Did turians really believe these things were true?"

"Some still do."

Solana cocked her head in disbelief. "Really? It's just stories."

"Stories that explain our world. Perhaps there is a seed of truth in all of them."

Solana stared at Cadmus. "Maybe." He marveled at her understanding. He could never have talked to Garrus this way at her age. Solana had intelligence beyond her years. She was his introspective, solemn, yet spirited offspring.

"Your mother told me what happened."

Solana lowered her eyes and her small mandibles fluttered. She kept quiet.

"Did you believe them?" Cadmus pressed. "Did you believe what they said about you?"

Solana looked up and nodded.

"Do you know who you are?"

Solana gazed into Cadmus' face. "A turian."

"A Vakarian. You have a name to be proud of and no one can take it from you, no matter what they say. I see in you the backbone and the strength of our family. You will rise above those who try to pull you down." Cadmus pointed to the data pad. "You will be your own titan."

Solana breathed out slowly. She picked up the data pad. "A titan," she whispered. He could tell the idea enthralled her.

Cadmus stood, not having much else to say. He'd said what he came to say, to ensure his daughter that she was made of better stock than her tormenters. "I want you to head downstairs. Your mother is waiting for you." Cadmus walked to the door, but was quickly stopped by a question.

"Are you mad at Garrus?"

Cadmus looked over his shoulder at Solana. "My feelings regarding your brother are no concern of yours." He walked through the door, heading down the hall to his son's room. When he got to the door it was closed. Cadmus didn't even ask for entry, he simply slapped the panel and the door opened. Garrus sat on the floor against the far wall dressed in an army green pant suit. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms folded, steely-blue eyes a mix of anger and fear. He stared Cadmus down facing his fate head on despite his misgivings.

"Stand up," Cadmus commanded. Garrus obeyed, rising gradually, his demeanor unchanged. "Follow me."

"Where are we going?" Garrus demanded, pacing behind his father with defiant steps.

"For a ride."

* * *

Cadmus pulled the speeder to a stop in front of a middle class home. The outside was nicely decorated. Cadmus twisted in his seat. He caught Laelia's staid eye, but continued to turn, looking at the two children in the backseat. "It's time to get out."

Garrus, his eyes still fierce, questioned, "Where are we?"

"I think it's Janus' house," Solana uttered quietly, gazing outside.

Garrus balked. "What? Why are we here?"

Cadmus gave his son his best ferocious gaze. "You are going to apologize for what you did."

Garrus' mandibles tightened against his jaw. "I don't have anything to apologize for."

"If you do not submit and make your apology, we will go back home and…"

"Garrus," Laelia's soft, yet solid voice interrupted Cadmus. Garrus moved his eyes to his mother. "You need to do this. Do it. It is the appropriate response to your actions."

Cadmus saw a war taking place within his son. Garrus had braced himself, not willing to give in to his father's point of view. But his love for his mother challenged his resolve. After about thirty seconds, he sat back in the seat and relented. "Fine."

Cadmus exited the speeder and opened the back door. Garrus glared up at him, but stepped out of the car. Cadmus leaned down to look inside. "Solana, I want you to come as well."

"_She's_ coming?" Garrus asked, stunned.

"Yes," Cadmus returned. Solana gingerly opened her door and got out as well, walking around the speeder to join her father and brother. "Let's go." Cadmus led the way to the front of the house. As they walked, he spoke to Garrus. "You will apologize and tell Janus that you lack self-control and are endeavoring to increase this quality within yourself." Garrus ground his jaw, but said nothing.

"What do I say?" Solana asked tentatively.

"_You_ do not have to say anything," Cadmus informed her. They had reached the front door. Cadmus tapped the chime. Soon, the door slid open to reveal a tall, dark turian with red markings on his face. His eyes gleamed green. He nodded swiftly to Cadmus, already aware of why he'd come. He called out, "Janus!" A turian child appeared and stood next to his father. He was tall and largely built for an eight year old. His right arm was splinted and bandaged. He looked as angry as Garrus currently was. His father looked down at him and growled, "Speak to her."

Janus' mandibles flexed in and out and he looked over at Solana. "My words to you were disrespectful and dishonorable. There is no excuse for my actions. I apologize for my lack of character."

Solana stared at the male child with large eyes. She nodded her head slowly. "I accept your apology."

Cadmus placed a hand on Garrus' shoulder, letting him know his turn had come. Garrus had to work to unclench his jaw. "I'm sorry you got hurt. I lack self-control and I am endeavoring to get better at it." Garrus' words came out mechanically without a hint of true remorse. They would have to do for now.

Janus scowled at Garrus. "I accept your apology." His words just as insincere.

Cadmus held out a hand to Janus' father. "We wish you strength, glory and honor."

Janus' father gripped Cadmus' wrist. "We wish the same." He let go of Cadmus' hand, turned and shut the door. Garrus immediately stomped back to the speeder, flinging his door open and plopping himself back down in his seat. Cadmus followed, opening Solana's door for her, then sliding into the driver's side. Laelia smiled slightly, amused at Garrus' stubbornness. Cadmus eyed her in irritation. It wasn't funny. Garrus needed to learn respect.

Cadmus revved the speeder and drove away. After a time, Solana spoke up. "Aren't we going home?" Cadmus wasn't surprised she'd figured out so quickly they weren't headed back to their house.

"No."

"Oh."

"Where are we going?" Garrus inquired warily.

"We have three more children to visit."

"You're making me apologize to all of them?" Garrus asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"I can't believe this," Garrus grumbled, slumping down into his seat.

"If you hadn't acted impulsively, you wouldn't have to do this."

"If I hadn't done anything, they'd still be after Sol."

"Enough, Garrus!" Cadmus practically shouted.

Garrus quieted, but a hiss from his son revealed he had no intention of cooling his hot temper.

* * *

After they left the last house, Cadmus headed back home. He pulled up at the end of their drive. Laelia exited and opened Solana's door for her. Garrus made to open his own door, but Cadmus' words stalled him.

"You're staying in the speeder." Cadmus looked back over his headrest.

"Why?"

"We're going somewhere else."

"Where?"

"You'll see. I want you to come sit in the front."

Garrus' eyes narrowed, but he sighed and left the speeder, walked around, opened the passenger side front door and sat down heavily. He kept his head turned away from his father and his hands balled into angry fists. Cadmus backed out of the drive.

As Cadmus drove, he cast a weary eye at his son sitting silent, focused on the scenery. Cadmus sighed inwardly. Over the last four years, his son had drifted away from him. He assumed Garrus considered him some law-abiding kill joy. If only he could understand that all Cadmus wanted was to aid him in becoming a great turian with great honor.

Cadmus thought back to his own childhood. His father had for the most part ignored his middle son. His pride was centered in his older son, the strong and virile warrior. He'd deigned to acknowledge Cadmus only when he had to, but even then, Cadmus had respected his father and his rules. He'd accepted punishment when he failed and made necessary changes to adjust his character and behavior. He'd seen the value in what his father wanted to teach him.

Cadmus rolled an eye over to Garrus again. At eleven, Garrus should already understand the turian pursuit of honor. He should be seeking to better himself in preparation for basic training only four short years away. Cadmus didn't want to send a son out of control to basic. It wasn't just family disgrace that bothered him. Cadmus knew that if Garrus didn't somehow learn to tame himself, his actions could easily lead him to disaster.

Cadmus pulled into his old Palaven precinct. He hadn't been back to visit in years. It still looked the same, however. He parked the speeder and spoke aloud. "Follow me inside."

Garrus didn't look when Cadmus spoke, simply opened his door and stepped out, rounding the speeder and walking sullenly behind his father. "You going to make them arrest me?"

Cadmus stopped and turned, the question taking him by surprise. "No. We're not headed to booking." Garrus shrugged his mandibles and Cadmus started walking again, troubled. Is that what his son thought of him? That he'd take a child and throw him to the authorities for a squabble with other children? He hoped his plan would turn his son's opinion of him around.

Cadmus entered the precinct and walked down several hallways. As he passed, he was stopped several times by old friends greeting him and inquiring how he was. Garrus grew antsier each time they were interrupted. Cadmus read in his posture the desire to get whatever his father had planned over with and out of the way. Finally, Cadmus found the office he was looking for. He opened the door and peeked his head in.

"Cadmus!" a voice called out cheerily. A turian came to the door, gray with the same markings as Cadmus. "Welcome to the old haunts."

Cadmus exchanged wrist grips with the turian. "Thank you for obliging."

"No problem," the turian returned and looked down at Garrus. "Your dad's legendary here, you know."

"Sure," Garrus said with a voice that revealed he couldn't care less.

The turian eyed Cadmus knowingly. "Everything's set up. You can go down there."

Cadmus nodded.

"You should come by when there's nothing pressing," the turian concluded, heading back to his desk. "We can catch up."

"I will," Cadmus assured. He backed out of the door and continued down the hall, Garrus' unwilling footsteps slapping behind him on the smooth tile floor. Cadmus came to a stairwell, descended it and walked up to a door marked "Morgue." He opened it, then stood back and gestured inside.

Garrus stood still. He tilted his head, eyes cautious. "The morgue?"

"Yes. You can go in." Cadmus could tell his son wasn't excited to step through the door, but after a couple seconds he flashed Cadmus an obstinate gaze and entered. Cadmus came behind. The lights were low as the room wasn't currently in use. Still, a couple ceiling lamps gleamed brightly above what they had come to see: a body—cleaned and naked on a gurney.

Cadmus walked over to the body and looked down at it. "Come over." Garrus slowly came his direction, eyes now slightly confused and slightly fearful. This obviously wasn't what he'd expected. When Garrus reached him, Cadmus ordered, "Describe the body."

Garrus swallowed as Cadmus watched his eyes scan the corpse. "Um…He's…old?"

"Middle aged," Cadmus clarified.

"Middle aged," Garrus repeated, as if he'd meant that all along. "He's…" Garrus stopped to breathe. "Murdered?"

"Correct," Cadmus confirmed. "How do you know?"

"Broken plates, bruises, throat cut..." Garrus pointed. "Bullet wounds?"

Cadmus followed Garrus' talon and nodded. "Now tell me why he was killed?"

Garrus stared for a least one more minute at the body, then said quietly, without looking up at his father, "I don't know."

"His name is Quivuzin Sallius. He embezzled a large amount of money from a prominent family. The day before his trial, he was found like this in the Saluntine River."

Garrus swallowed again, eyes riveted on the corpse. "Did they catch who did it?"

"They have a suspect in custody. A son from the victimized family." Cadmus paused, waiting to see if Garrus asked any more questions. When he didn't, Cadmus asked one of his own. "Do you know why I'm showing you this?"

Garrus shook his head slowly.

"Look at me, Garrus." Garrus looked up at his father, his eyes subdued, anger diminished. "This turian's killer claims he killed him for 'a good reason.' He claims it was justified. He thinks the evidence against Quivuzin was too thin and he would be acquitted. He thinks he did the right thing." Garrus blinked his eyes and Cadmus could tell he was deep in thought. "Do _you_ think Quivuzin deserved death?"

Garrus looked down at the corpse momentarily, then back at his father. "No," he said in a barely audible voice.

"You are correct. No matter what he did, it wasn't right for his victim to take justice into his own hands…It also wasn't right for _you_ to take justice into your hands."

"But…I didn't kill anyone," Garrus protested.

"I'm glad you didn't," Cadmus said, "But the fact remains you decided to take revenge with dishonor to satisfy your own anger."

"I was helping Sol!" Garrus spoke loudly.

"You could have helped her differently."

"How?" Garrus questioned angrily.

"We have a legal way to confront wrong doers. If you wanted to fight her classmates, you could have challenged them to _talio_ combat. They could not have refused your challenge. It would have been the right way to take such an action."

Garrus, whose tone had gotten fierce once again, simmered down with an admission. "I didn't think of that."

"You didn't think of it because you let anger control you. Your emotion should never control you, Garrus. _You_ control _it_. _You_ should be its master, not its slave. This turian died because another turian couldn't control his anger." Garrus turned away from the body and folded his hands over his chest. Cadmus sighed and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "What I want you to understand, son, is where this fire within you can take you. If you make exploding a habit, your wrath will rage until it is beyond you. At that point, a fatal error will await you."

"Can we go now?" Garrus asked quietly.

"Alright," Cadmus agreed. Garrus moved towards the door of the room. Cadmus wondered how much of what he'd just seen and heard had made it into his mind. He got his answer when Garrus stopped at the threshold and turned to look at him, eyes hardened once again.

"I won't kill anyone for a stupid reason," he declared. "But I'm still glad I stopped those bullies." He turned on his heel and walked swiftly to the stairs and up, not waiting for his father's response. Cadmus came behind, controlling his own desire to yell angrily and slap his son up side the head for his arrogance.

* * *

Cadmus crawled into bed, tired out from the day's stress. Garrus had spent the rest of the day in his room, ostensibly studying, but Cadmus thought more than anything avoiding him. Cadmus could only hope Garrus was thinking over their talk in the morgue and changing his mind regarding his own behavior, but he wasn't holding out for such results.

Laelia turned out the light and slipped under the covers, then rolled over and into Cadmus. He reached out a hand, ran it over her shapely hips, and rested his palm on her abdomen. "I'm sorry you had such a difficult start to your leave," Laelia said apologetically.

"Hum…" Cadmus intoned.

"Garrus is a good turian, Cadmus, he's just young."

"Youth needs to stop being his excuse," Cadmus spoke directly, though not harshly. "He's only four years away from basic. He needs to be disciplined by then."

"Four years is a long time," Laelia asserted.

_And still maybe not long enough_, Cadmus worried. Aloud he said, "I looked over Garrus' scores. He's got combat down. His shooting marks leave much to be desired."

Laelia chuckled. "What is it?" Cadmus asked.

"Oh, it's just so clear you want Garrus to be like you."

A harsh breath escaped Cadmus' nose. "I don't think that's wrong."

"It's not wrong…but he's not you. He wants to be an engineer, not a cop."

Cadmus felt indignation rise. "What's wrong with being a cop?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. It's just not his interest."

"Well, he still needs to improve his marks before basic. He knows enough about engineering. It's time he turned his attention to other skills."

Laelia sighed. "What does this mean, Cadmus? I can hear the determination in your voice. You have a plan."

Indeed, he did. "Two days from now, I'm taking him into the mountains. 'The whelp must dissolve into the beast and the beast must rise a man'."

"I hated that book," Laelia groaned at Cadmus' quote.

"Well, I didn't," Cadmus returned.

"I'm not surprised," Laelia spoke good-naturedly. She rolled over on her other side, back to him, readying for sleep. "But it _is_ a good idea. He should spend time with you. He needs his father's wisdom."

Cadmus closed his own eyes, mind turned to the past. _Duvrid's Conversion _was required reading in basic training. It was a parable of sorts, a story about a turian teenager thrown into the wilds who encounters, and is eventually guided by, a mysterious hooded adult. It contained all the lessons one was supposed to learn to become a well-adjusted citizen contributing to a moral, law-abiding society. Cadmus had determined that he needed just such an experience with Garrus; he needed to be alone with his son in the wilds, teaching his son directly how to become a true turian. He had only a month of leave. Every moment had to count. In two days, Cadmus would take Garrus into the same mountains he'd used to whip himself into shape. But unlike Cadmus, he wouldn't have to go it alone. His father would be his guide every step of the way.


	21. Training

Cadmus considered the stone rock face, then backed up and charged towards it. When he reached it, he jumped and gripped a ledge, hefting himself up onto a narrow plateau. He came to his feet and stared below. Garrus was several meters away, plugging along. Cadmus put his hands on his hips and called out, "Almost there, son! Pick up your pace!" Garrus didn't respond, just kept coming. When he reached the ledge, he craned his neck up at his father and blinked his eyes.

"How do I get up _there_?"

Cadmus peered over the edge. He had thought Garrus would be able to scramble up on his own, but considering his lack of height, probably not. "Here," he said, kneeling and reaching down his long arm to Garrus. "Take my hand and put your feet against the rock. Climb up."

Garrus clutched his father's hand tightly. Cadmus pulled up with all his strength and Garrus pushed his feet into the rock face, walking up horizontally. When Garrus was close to the top, Cadmus grabbed his backpack with his free hand and hoisted him onto the ledge. Garrus kneeled on the ground, breathing shortly. Cadmus stood, striding to the other side of the plateau. "You made it. I told you you would."

"Yeah," Garrus breathed out noncommittally.

"Come look," Cadmus spoke. "Behold the glories of our homeworld."

Cadmus heard Garrus' shuffling feet and his son appeared next to him. Cadmus pointed. "Cipritine's over there, on the horizon."

"I see it," Garrus affirmed.

Cadmus stared, thoroughly taken with the sight. He hadn't been up in the Inculta Mountains since his marriage. He'd forgotten the breathtaking views. Palaven boasted green beauty and shining silver deposits, not to mention its crystal clear rivers. In his mind, no other planet could rival his own.

Cadmus heard Garrus walk away, then a backpack falling and the crunching of stone. He turned. Garrus had removed his pack from his shoulders and lay back on the plateau, water bottle in hand, gulping it down. Cadmus shook his head. He hardly felt winded. Garrus, he realized, wasn't in good shape. _He spends too much time reading engineering books_, Cadmus complained to himself. This trip had come at just the right time. Garrus needed to get a taste for the labors that awaited him in basic.

Cadmus paced over to his son and shrugged out of his own pack. He placed it on the ground, then opened it and rummaged through it for a few seconds. He withdrew a green metallic container and held it out to Garrus. "Here."

Garrus sat up slowly and took the green container. "More rations?" he grumbled.

Cadmus chuckled. "Get used to them. It's almost all you'll get in basic."

Garrus popped the container's lid and shook out some dried meat and berries, stuffing them into his mouth. As he chewed, he gazed out at the expanse. "Kind of pretty, I guess."

Cadmus looked back at the view. "Yes."

"Are we going any farther today?" Garrus asked. Cadmus noted he tried to keep the whining tone out of his voice, but it still edged the question.

"We'll settle up here for the night."

"Won't it be cold?"

"We have our pallets."

"Yeah," Garrus agreed unenthusiastically.

"Do you know about the fielding trek?"

"No…" Garrus answered, wary.

"About mid-point in basic training, your instructors will transport you to the wilds. You can take nothing with you, not even a pallet. You have three days to return to base. Either you get back or you fail." Garrus breathed in slowly, taking the information in. "So…be grateful I let you bring rations and a pallet."

Garrus eyed his father. "I guess…thanks."

Cadmus nodded at him. Garrus opened his pack and pulled out his gray colored pallet. He laid it out, unzipped it and slipped into it. In less than two minutes, he was asleep, his mouth slightly open and deep breaths issuing forth. Cadmus didn't lie down as yet. He decided to enjoy the view a little longer. The sun was just setting. Soon Menae would rise. As the atmosphere darkened and stars began to appear, he mused over the last two days with his son.

It had been awkward to say the least. Garrus had begun their trip with a scowling face. Cadmus had explained he wasn't being punished, but Garrus didn't seem to understand that. Still, he had no choice. He'd obeyed and come along because he had to. There was a least enough turian in him to keep him submitted to his father. Cadmus had planned only hiking for the first two days. Over time, Garrus' expression had changed from annoyance to defiant determination—determination to show Cadmus he could keep up with him and thus was just as good as him. Then, from abut midday to now, exhaustion had taken over, Garrus simply trying to keep going.

Cadmus glanced back at Garrus, snoring slightly, then retrieved his own pallet from his pack and quietly slid into it, laying back to stare up at the clear, twinkling sky. He remembered his first excursion alone into the mountains. He was twelve. He'd begged his mother to let him go and she'd finally relented. He'd carried along a hunting arcus, a shotgun and a pack with a pallet. No food, no water. He'd read a manual that summer about survival. He'd known that if he was going to prove himself to his father, he needed to go all the way. As it turned out, when he successfully returned alive and well along with the horns of a damma (a hoofed plains beast), his father had said shortly, "You're back. Good. Your mother was worried" and that was it. So Cadmus had stopped caring about what his father thought and decided to do things simply for himself. He went into the mountains to better himself for himself.

Cadmus closed his eyes. He didn't want his son to think he didn't care. He did care. But he didn't know how to prove that to Garrus. This trip itself was evidence, but Garrus didn't seem to see it. Garrus, unfortunately, didn't exhibit the same desire to improve himself as Cadmus had at his age. In many ways, Cadmus felt like he traveled with a stranger, not his son. And perhaps that was partially true. They hadn't seen in each other in five months. Every time Cadmus saw his son they had to catch up and get to know each other all over again. Cadmus sighed. And it didn't help that the very first day he returned was a day of discipline.

Cadmus heard rustling next to him and he turned his head and opened his eyes. Garrus had shifted, now on his side, mouth still open, eyes shut tight, sleeping soundly. Cadmus was now doing what he'd wished for when Garrus was first born, but it wasn't turning out the way he hoped. There wasn't any camaraderie between them—just a vast valley of different ideas and ages. Garrus didn't yet understand what was truly important. He didn't yet understand what it meant to be turian.

Cadmus lay his head back and closed his eyes again. Well, this trip would change his son. Cadmus vowed to mold in him the skills he needed to rise up to the glories of manhood.

* * *

"Dad? Dad?"

Cadmus gradually raised his eyelids, the dawning of a new day meeting his gaze. The sun was yet below the horizon, but shades of azure were brightening the sky. He pushed himself up on his elbows. He rarely slept this late. _Must be all the activity_. He looked over at Garrus, out of his pallet and rummaging through Cadmus' pack.

"There're no more rations," Garrus informed him, concern in his eyes.

Cadmus tried not to smile. "We ran out last night."

"You didn't bring enough?"

Cadmus unzipped his pallet, slid out, then stood. "No."

"How are we going to eat?" Garrus asked.

Cadmus sauntered over to his son and knelt by his pack. He pulled out a light blue cylindrical object.

"Uh…what is that?" Garrus questioned uncertainly.

"Stand back," Cadmus commanded. Garrus stepped a few paces away. Cadmus held out the object and pressed a button at the bottom of the cylinder. The sides broke away with a snap forming a T-shape. Cadmus reached to the middle and pulled out a cable, then attached it to the ends of the T. It resembled a human crossbow. He held it up for a second, sighting down the middle, then lowered it and looked at Garrus. "My old arcus." He passed it over to his son and Garrus took it gingerly.

"Wow," Garrus breathed out, making his father smile slightly. "I've never seen one of these. Only in pictures."

"Very few use them any more," Cadmus explained, kneeling again and drawing another cylinder out of his pack. "Why use an arcus when a gun will do?"

Cadmus moved back over to Garrus and took the arcus from him. He popped the top of the second cylinder and drew out a long silver projectile with a wide, clear tip. He set it along the arcus, then looked at Garrus. "If we're going to eat, we're going to have to catch our meal ourselves."

Garrus shifted back and forth on his feet. Cadmus read both excitement and nervousness in his action. He pointed. "What's in it?"

Cadmus smiled. His son had been observant. The clear tip shone with a liquid. "Poison. When it enters your prey, it releases. In the heart, it's an instant kill."

"Oh…What are we going to kill?"

Cadmus peered off the plateau at the rocky expanse on the other side. "This time of year, mountain ovis are plentiful. Pack up your pallet and let's get to it."

Cadmus quickly attended to own pallet, rolling it and stuffing it in his pack, then threw the pack over his back. As Garrus finished gathering his own pack, Cadmus stepped to the edge of the plateau and gazed out at the sun peeking over the horizon. He breathed deeply, savoring the familiar smells of his home planet. He missed doing this kind of thing. The Citadel had its challenges, puzzles that honed and excited his mind. But there was something to be said for time outdoors and living by one's own hands. He was glad he'd written Denae and told her he'd be out of contact for a few days. He realized he hadn't done this only for Garrus; he'd done it for himself, too.

* * *

Cadmus crouched behind a rock and concentrated on a ledge a few meters beyond. A shaggy ovis with its stubbly horns and six hooves was munching on a clump of grass. Cadmus had warned Garrus to keep still and quiet. Ovis were naturally skittish and even a slight movement could send it fleeing. Cadmus eyed his son and whispered so low Garrus had to lean in to hear. "You try it."

"Uh…" Garrus stammered, but took the arcus Cadmus placed in his hands. Cadmus watched him line up the shot.

"Hold it at eye level," Cadmus instructed. "Like you would a sniper rifle. Sight along the middle."

Garrus raised the arcus up, eyes focused.

"Aim for the chest. With luck, you'll miss bone and hit heart."

Garrus breathed out and pulled the release. The projectile went wide, skimming over the ovis' head and clattering into the rock at his back. Garrus' face fell and he bowed his head in disappointment. Cadmus, however, was on his feet. He'd snapped the arcus out of Garrus' hands and loaded another projectile in one second flat. The ovis was already running, but Cadmus was faster. The arcus fired and the ovis cried out, pitching forwards on the ledge. Cadmus loaded again and again fired. The animal's cries ceased.

"Come on," Cadmus said, moving out from behind the rock and making his way to the rocky ledge. When he reached the ovis, he smiled in satisfaction. First hit in the thigh, second through the ribs. He knelt down and unsheathed a long knife from his boot. Garrus' heavy footfalls sounded behind him.

"Sorry," Garrus mumbled.

Cadmus didn't look back. "It was your first time," he excused for a moment, but couldn't help following up with "but you should be better. I saw your shooting marks. You need more practice." Indeed, Garrus' performance here had revealed his son struggled to line up a shot. Luckily, he had a plan to make his son a better marksman as well as a better survivalist.

Cadmus began to skin the ovis, but spoke as he did so. "You know the jupa berry?"

"Yeah," Garrus said. "Mom has some in her garden."

"It grows wild. Go search for some. Also look for kymes shoots."

"Okay."

Cadmus heard Garrus walk slowly away. He turned a moment and observed his son's drooping shoulders as he trudged way to fulfill his father's instructions. Cadmus placed his attention back on the ovis, methodically skinning and carving. He hated to see Garrus disappointed with himself. He well knew the feeling of failure. But it didn't help to mope over it; nothing would change by dwelling on it. Rather, you let failure teach you and determined to do better. Cadmus hoped by the end of their time together, Garrus would find he could do better than he ever thought. He wanted to see his son leave the mountains with solid confidence.

Forty minutes later, Cadmus had completed his task. He'd wrapped some of the meat up for later, but the rest he roasted over a makeshift fire. The smell of the meat tingled his nose and made his mouth water. It was a good two hours after daybreak now. Garrus had returned with the berries and grass and Cadmus had instructed him to break the grass into pieces, then squeeze the berries and create a mash. Garrus did so in one of the travel bowls Cadmus provided. Cadmus finally sat next to Garrus and handed him a skewer filled with meat. Garrus ate eagerly. Cadmus ate more gradually, dignified despite his hunger.

"What do you think?" Cadmus asked after Garrus finished his first skewer.

"Kind of…musty," Garrus said. "But I'm so hungry, I think it's good…I think."

Cadmus smiled. The taste of roasted ovis brought him back to his childhood, reminding him of good times.

"Dad…did you…eat this on the fielding trek?"

Cadmus shook his head. "Remember, they don't allow you to bring anything. That includes weapons."

"Then, how can you make it?"

Cadmus pointed at Garrus' bowl of mash. Garrus looked down and wrinkled up his nose. "You live on _this_?"

"And other plants and berries. Insects, as well, if you can find them. Small rodents if you're fortunate."

"What about water?"

"You have to find streams or wadis."

"Did you…did you pass?"

Cadmus lowered his skewer and chewed methodically. "What do you think?"

Garrus' mandibles clacked. "You passed."

Cadmus inclined his head. "Second back. Three minutes after Captain Fedorian."

Garrus' mandibles flexed again and he sighed. "I'm going to fail," he muttered lowly.

Cadmus' heart plummeted at Garrus' words. "Garrus!" he reprimanded sharply. Garrus looked over at him, face downcast. "Vakarians don't talk that way. You don't decide you'll fail."

"But I can't shoot…I don't know how to do all this," Garrus protested, arm flung out in exasperation.

"Why do you think I brought you out here? We aren't playing. This is preparation for your future."

"I can't do it like you can," Garrus grumbled, lowering his eyes again.

"Of course you can't. You haven't had enough practice. Do you think I do all this out of nothing? I trained myself. Garrus, look at me." Garrus turned his head to Cadmus. "You aren't ever going to get better with the attitude you have. If you think you'll fail, you will. You have to determine that you _won't_ fail. You thought you couldn't climb these mountains. You did. You can achieve great things if you tell yourself you will. You don't ever give up. Ever."

Garrus sighed and scooped some more mash into his mouth, then washed it down with water from his canteen. Silence reigned over the fire. Cadmus sighed inside. He should have done this long ago. Why hadn't he taken Garrus on a trip like this years ago? He guessed he hadn't thought about it because he hadn't thought he'd be needed. He'd assumed Garrus would have the same gumption as himself. Instead, his son had frittered away his time on engineering books. Cadmus should have caught on, but he didn't. Now he only had this month to bring Garrus up to speed and motivate his son to improve himself. It seemed an insurmountable task. But Cadmus was no hypocrite. He lived his words. He'd promised himself and he meant it. Garrus _would_ return home better than when they left. Cadmus would make sure of it.

* * *

The next two days were spent practicing hunting and survival skills. Little by little, Garrus improved. He could now identify various edible plants, gather the right kind of grasses for a suitable fire and sense when water was nearby. However, he still lacked shooting prowess. He only hit an ovis once and then only glancing off its back. Cadmus knew Garrus' shooting marks were satisfactory with a pistol. But the pistols he trained with were child's play. His marks suffered with anything more complex. Thus, Cadmus had planned shooting practice for the last day of their excursion.

They had made a circuit in the mountains and had come back down to the plains. As they headed for their speeder, Garrus' pace had picked up. Cadmus knew he was exhausted, and he read in his sons increased speed a desire for home. "We aren't going home just yet," Cadmus warned him.

Garrus halted abruptly and turned on his heel to his father. "Why?"

"We have one more thing to do."

"But…"

"It's time you learn to shoot better."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"I'm so tired, can't we do it tomorrow at home?"

"No." Cadmus marched ahead of his son and reached the speeder first. He opened the back door and dropped his pack inside, then drew out a sniper rifle. It was large, longer than Cadmus' arm. It was double barreled and had an attached scope. He'd picked it out from his stash of weapons, an older model, but good and steady.

"I'm going to shoot that?" Garrus had made it to the speeder.

"Put your pack inside and follow me," Cadmus ordered, removing another bag from the speeder and slinging it over his shoulder. He headed determinedly several yards away from the speeder. Garrus hadn't been any good with live targets, at least with the arcus. Cadmus prayed he'd manage to hit still targets. Cadmus found a flat rock and pulled three empty bottles out of the bag. He lined them up, then paced several feet away. He glanced back the way he'd come. Garrus was slowly approaching, plodding and entirely unenthusiastic.

"Stand here," Cadmus commanded when his son reached him.

Garrus did as he was told.

"You see the targets?"

Garrus nodded.

"Here." Cadmus handed over the rifle.

Garrus almost dropped the gun immediately. "It's heavy," he commented.

"It's meant to be. Makes it solid and powerful."

"I've never used one of these."

"Your instructors didn't use one?"

"Not a rifle like this."

"Hum…" Cadmus intoned. He made a mental note to talk to Garrus' instructors. He wanted to know exactly what kind of weapons they were training his son in. "Then listen carefully. Hold it up to your shoulder. Look through the scope. Train your eye on each bottle in turn. There's a strong kickback, so be ready for it."

Garrus hefted the rifle up and peered through the scope. He held his breath and fired. The shots pinged far afield of the targets.

"You're too tense," Cadmus reproved. "Relax. Breathe when you shoot. Try again."

Garrus took a deep breath and let it out. He lifted the rifle up, stared through the scope, fired again. Shots pelted far to the right. Garrus lowered the gun.

"Keep holding it up," Cadmus insisted.

Garrus raised the rifle, arms trembling under the stress of its weight.

"You have to hold it long enough to get used to the weight. Go again."

Garrus fired again…and again…and again…But not even one shot hit a bottle. Cadmus sucked in a deep breath. He knew the rifle would be challenging, but he had picked it for a reason.

"It's too hard," Garrus complained.

"Of course it's hard," Cadmus agreed. "You can shoot the easy weapons. You need to master the harder ones. If you master this one, you'll be able to shoot anything."

"But…the rifle's heavy."

"You're letting your emotions dictate your actions," Cadmus explained in irritation. "Just like you did with those children."

Garrus let out a harsh breath. "So _this_ is the punishment," he mumbled.

Cadmus locked his jaw. "No. This is practice. Shoot."

Garrus' mandibles tightened and he lifted the rifle once again. He shot. Nothing. Cadmus ordered him over and over to keep trying. Garrus kept firing to no avail. Cadmus watched his son shaking under the weight of the gun. He saw the reluctance in his shoulders, the lack of motivation. Garrus didn't possess the one quality he needed most now: endurance. Cadmus resolved that here and now, his son would learn this one character quality if it took all day.

"Stop fighting the rifle," Cadmus advised when Garrus failed again. "You need to make the rifle part of you, not your enemy." Garrus didn't respond, simply gazed through the scope. *"Are you even listening to me, Garrus? Try again."

Garrus dropped the gun, slumping downwards. "Can we stop for awhile?" he begged. "My arms hurt."

"Not until you hit those targets," Cadmus spoke authoritatively. "Now again."

Garrus reluctantly brought the rifle back to his shoulder. He fired six more times. No hits. He lowered the rifle and this time about bent over double, breathing shallowly. His eyes screamed disappointment in himself. "Why are we doing this? I'm not going to get any better."

Cadmus bristled at the defeated tone in his son's voice. He'd never make it through basic, not at this rate. He had no stamina. How could he be the turian he was meant to be if he kept this sullen attitude? Cadmus pulled himself to his full height. "Then this is exactly when you try _harder_. This is when you pull yourself together and you _do_ it. Because if you stop now—if you give up on something when it gets hard—you're never going to make it anywhere in life." Garrus glanced up at his father, his face a mix of hurt, fear and guilt. Cadmus sighed and placed a hand on his son's cowl. "I'm not doing this to punish you. My job as your father isn't to make your life easy—it's to teach you how to be an adult…Now. Again."*

Garrus stretched his arms, then lifted the rifle, but his face reflected doubt. He fired, missed, fired again, missed again. He slowly knelt down to the ground. "I can't do it. I'm too tired."

Cadmus stifled his growl. "Garrus, what kind of turian do you want to be?"

Garrus looked up at him. "Um…"

"Think. What do you want to be known for?"

"I guess…I guess for doing my job well? Helping society?"

"Then get up. If you're going to be turian, you're going to know how to shoot."

"You just want me to be a cop like you," Garrus grumbled under his breath.

Cadmus set aggravated eyes on his son. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Look, Garrus. You can pursue whatever job you want. I don't care what you do. But I do care about your character. You need control, endurance and perseverance and you aren't going to attain those by quitting. You get those by doing hard things and getting through them. Get up. Now!"

Garrus responded to the harsh tone in his father's voice by rising to his feet.

"You might as well realize we're going to stay out here until you hit those targets. I don't care how long it takes."

Cadmus saw Garrus clench his jaw and his eyes flash fiercely. Cadmus knew he had pushed him to anger. He didn't want his son to act in anger, but sometimes it took kicking someone in the shins to get him to do what he needed to do. Garrus fired several more times, missing each time.

"Your anger is disturbing your aim," Cadmus admonished. "Take a breath and control yourself. Then do it again."

Garrus swiveled his eyes to his father, then back to the targets. He managed to unclench his jaw. He opened his mouth and breathed deeply. He peered through the scope. Cadmus saw the concentration in his face, the will to achieve. It was what he'd wanted to see on his son's face this whole time. It was like watching his son transform. As he aimed, Cadmus willed this to be a good shot. Garrus breathed out once more and fired. There was the sound of shattering glass. Cadmus watched his son's eyes light up.

"I…did it," Garrus stammered unbelievingly.

"You did it because you didn't give up."

Garrus held out the weapon to his father. "So…Can we go now?"

Cadmus shook his head. "You have two more targets."

To Cadmus' surprise, Garrus didn't protest. He simply brought the gun up again, his eyes hard, staring at the targets. Cadmus raised his chin high. _This_ was what he wanted in a son—a turian who obeyed authority and didn't let his feelings reign over him. Garrus was finally making progress.

* * *

As they drove home in the speeder, Garrus collapsed into a deep slumber. It had taken a good thirty more minutes for Garrus to hit the other two targets, but he'd eventually done it. Cadmus felt like their trip had been entirely worth it. It had accomplished exactly what he intended. Whether Garrus felt that way remained to be seen. As he pulled into their drive, Garrus awoke, eyes glazed. Cadmus parked the speeder and turned to his son.

"This is just the beginning," he spoke solemnly.

Garrus gazed up at him. "You mean…tomorrow…" Cadmus could hear the defeat in his son's voice.

"Not tomorrow. But you still have a long way to go. You need to keep improving."

Garrus sighed and looked out the window at the mansion. "But you'll be leaving again."

"Yes, but that doesn't matter. You can do this on your own, you know."

Garrus' mandibles puffed in and out. "You want me to stop studying and do _that_ all the time."

Cadmus drew in a long breath. "Garrus, you can study all you want. You want to be an engineer, fine. But that doesn't change your need for discipline and control. You aren't going to get that from pouring over ship diagrams."

"Sure," Garrus uttered quietly, opening the door of the speeder and exiting. He tramped up to the house, shoulders bent. Cadmus sighed. He'd thought they'd achieved something up there in the mountains, but maybe it had been for naught after all. He stepped out of the speeder and collected his pack and Garrus', as well as his rifle. He strolled into the house. Laelia was standing there waiting for him.

"How did he do?" she inquired anxiously.

"Didn't he tell you?" Cadmus asked as he moved into the parlor and set their gear down.

"He said 'hi' and went upstairs. He didn't seem in the mood to talk."

Cadmus sat down on one of the couches and yawned. "I'm not sure how it went. His skills improved…but his will…" Cadmus broke off, shaking his head.

Laelia sat down gently next to her husband. She put a hand on his knee. "Remember, he _is_ eleven."

"I know that," Cadmus assured her. "Still, he needs more practice than I can give him."

"He has his instructors," Laelia reminded him.

"I get the feeling they don't challenge their students enough."

Laelia chuckled quietly. "They don't challenge them enough _for you_."

Cadmus looked askance at his wife. "You think I'm asking too much out of him?"

Laelia smiled softly. "I'm fine with what you're asking him to do. I'm sure it will make him better prepared. Of course I want that for him. But I don't think other turians push their children as hard as you do. They know basic will train them when they get there."

Cadmus scratched his right mandible. He'd never considered that other turian parents didn't push their children as forcefully. In his experience, turian fathers were supposed to guarantee their children's success—at least, that's what he had seen his father do with his brother. "You're telling me other turian parents are lazy?"

"Oh, they teach them combat and to shoot, but there's a lot to be said for freedom, Cadmus. Not all turians will end up soldiers or even cops. Many will end up in the Civil Service. I think that's where our son will spend his career."

Perhaps that _was_ where Garrus would end up. In the Corps of Engineers. _Like my sister_. And although he knew turians were needed for all kinds of jobs, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He wanted Garrus to be seen for his stamina and strength, not just his technical intellect.

"Even so," Cadmus spoke aloud, "It doesn't change his need for strong character."

Laelia stood, then placed an encouraging hand on Cadmus' shoulder. "He'll grow character. He's learning still. Be patient."

Cadmus blinked uncertainly as he watched his wife leave the room. He had patience enough for the puzzles of his job. He could wait out a suspect, tracking methodically. He could pour over files for hours, working a problem through in his mind. For some reason, though, he seemed to have the most difficult time conjuring patience for his son.

* * *

Five weeks later, Cadmus found himself back at his desk in Zakera pouring over cases and catching up. Denae had given him the run down on the happenings since his leave when he'd arrived back a week ago. Everyone seemed to need his attention all at once. This morning, he'd forced distress over Garrus to the back of his mind. He'd only managed to practice shooting with Garrus a handful of other times on his leave. Work, gatherings with extended family and meetings with friends had interfered. Garrus had improved somewhat, but still didn't possess the ability Cadmus wanted him to have. Thoughts of his son's development had plagued him this first week back and distracted him from his duty. He needed to forget family troubles for the time being and concentrate on his job. So he told himself that he could do no good worrying about Garrus from here and admonished himself to keep his mind on his job. But mid-afternoon, an e-mail appeared in his in-box from Laelia. He couldn't help but steal a quick moment to read it and when he did, his eyes widened in interest and surprise.

_ Cadmus, I thought you'd like to know you didn't waste your time. I got up this morning and Garrus was gone. He left a note. He went off by himself, he says to hike and practice. He's a good turian. I've known that all along. I hope you know it, too. Laelia._

Cadmus sat back in his chair and allowed himself a satisfied grin. Maybe his son would turn out to be a model turian after all.

* * *

Author's Note: The dialogue between the asterisks is taken from the comic book, _A Bullet for Your Sins._


	22. Altercation

"I don't want to see another batarian or human ever!" Tychus exclaimed as he joined his comrades around their table. Cadmus ran an eye over his interrogator. He didn't approve of the outburst, but he sympathized with the sentiment.

"At least you're in Zakera," Viator returned, passing a glass over to the frustrated turian. "I hear they have their hands full up in the Presidium."

Several eyes turned to Venari who was taking a sip from his glass. He lowered it slowly. "It's gotten worse, but I wouldn't say unbearable." Venari had been promoted recently to head of the Presidium precinct.

"Humans have increased by 20% from population charts last year," Kepel informed the social gathering.

"It's kind of amazing, though, isn't it?" Asheel said. "They've been part of the wider galaxy for a little over ten years and they've achieved so much."

Tychus snorted. "Only because they push and whine until no one wants to put up with their griping anymore."

"You complain quite often, Officer Kilieas, but I have heard you admire the humans' military strength. A strange paradox." Of course, the direct statement came from Joran.

Tychus' eyes bore into his teammate. "I can recognize their military prowess. But they're still a burr in our cowls here, aren't they?"

"You know why you grouse so much, Tychus?" Everyone now looked to the latest member of their social group, Denae. "You haven't been around long enough to take newbies in stride. In case you don't remember, we asari were the first to find the Citadel, the first to understand mass effect fields. We've discovered our share of races and we've lived long enough to see the discovery many more. At some point you realize you're just going to have to put up with different races and their conflicts. It's the way the galaxy works."

Cadmus smiled at Denae. He appreciated her point of view and boldness to speak up. Over the last six years, he'd never regretted making her head of one of his precinct's detective teams.

Tychus growled slightly. "They can conflict all they want. Just keep their petty disagreements out of my Ward." He picked up the glass Viator had previously slid over to him, downed it, then set it back on the table with a clink.

"Well…" Viator said, smiling. "If they keep at each other in the Skyllian Verge, maybe you'll be fortunate and they'll just destroy each other so you won't have anything to worry about."

There were a few murmurs of agreement and then talk shifted to the troubles of the Skyllian Verge. For years now the batarians and humans had been fighting it out for control of the region. The Council kept its hands out of the business, but had nonetheless recognized humanity's rapid expansion and granted them an embassy on the Citadel. Humanity might have received its embassy earlier if it hadn't been for a human, one Ivor Jonstagg, who had tried to kill the volus ambassador. However, it had been concluded that he acted alone and was a paranoid schizophrenic. So the humans got their embassy a year later. Most other races on the Citadel still weren't used to humanity's new influence.

Cadmus didn't concern himself so much with politics. He let the Council do its job and he did his. Humans concerned him more as they took up positions in C-Sec. The original human trainees were now officers and had been for six years. Even Harkin had managed to keep on. Cadmus' prediction hadn't come to pass. C-Sec gossip was that Harkin had lasted only because the human ambassador kept smoothing things over when he messed up. Cadmus was glad that at least most of the humans had been kept in the Presidium. Some C-Sec human officers trickled down to the Wards, but very few. Cadmus didn't have any in his precinct yet, but figured it was only a matter of time.

Cadmus looked across at Tychus. He knew the interrogator was upset over his latest case, another squabble between batarians and humans. Humans had found Zakera. They weren't living there as of yet, but were starting to frequent its establishments in the central hub. It seemed not even a week went by without some kind of incident between the two races. It had easily gotten annoying, at least to Tychus, who had said at one point he felt more like a nanny than a cop. Cadmus read in the batarian-human tension a rising pressure that would soon reach its boiling point. He just hoped it didn't boil over on the Citadel.

"You do your job," Cadmus spoke, eyes on Tychus. "That's all that matters."

Tychus nodded his head. "At least they keep me employed." He cracked a slow smile and there was a twittering of laughter around the table.

* * *

Cadmus left the bar, tired and already thinking about the next day. Work dominated his mind most of the time, but he wasn't contemplating it now. His duties had given way to thoughts of family. Time had passed quickly, he realized as he walked. It seemed like just yesterday he'd been fretting over Garrus' upbringing and now his son was less than a year from basic training. Garrus had improved beyond his expectations in the last three years. He had taken Cadmus' words to heart, putting his will and strength into his training. His shooting marks couldn't be rivaled by his peers anymore. His stamina was evidenced in a wilderness trek competition he'd entered last month—and won. Cadmus beamed with pride in a son who had become what he'd wanted. And yet, things were still a bit uneasy between the elder and younger Vakarian. Cadmus sometimes wondered if Garrus resented how he'd been pushed to achieve, but he was certain some day Garrus would thank him for all the hard work and overbearing instruction.

Cadmus' thoughts about his son were interrupted when a voice called out, "Cadmus! Wait!" Cadmus stopped and turned to see his cousin rushing down the hall to catch up with him. He halted when he got to Cadmus. "Can I walk with you?"

"Of course," Cadmus answered good-naturedly, though he wondered why Viator wanted to be alone with him. They were still close, good friends and family, but they saw little of each other outside their social gathering. Viator was either working or off with Leea somewhere. Viator's quarian wife had convinced her Fleet she needed to stay on the Citadel rather than drift back and forth. Her presence had become almost permanent. Viator had paid handsomely for a special apartment complete with a sterile room. To this day, Cadmus marveled that Viator and Leea had made their marriage work. He'd expected his flighty cousin to give up by now, but Viator demonstrated absolute commitment to the female he had chosen. Truth be told, Cadmus had gotten used to the odd couple. In fact, he'd come to think of the two as one. Viator and Leea just went together in the same thought.

Cadmus resumed his sauntering home. Viator rubbed the back of his neck, pacing beside his cousin. "Family coming in tomorrow, right?"

Cadmus nodded. "It's been six months. Too long for Laelia."

"I don't blame her," Viator said. "The longest Leea's ever been gone is four. I about went crazy over it."

Cadmus chuckled quietly. Such a reaction was typical for his more emotional cousin. "What do you want to talk about?"

Viator swallowed. "I figured you'd know I wanted to discuss something."

Cadmus nodded again.

"It's just…I think I'm going to be needing more of your advice soon."

Cadmus rolled an eye over to Viator. "Oh?"

"Yeah…um…I'm going to be a father…maybe."

Cadmus froze mid-stride and faced Viator. He'd thought his cousin couldn't surprise him any more than falling in love with and marrying a quarian. He had been wrong.

"I wish you could see your face," Viator laughed.

Cadmus, aware he'd let his control drop, gathered himself and resumed his stoic demeanor. But his voice expressed his surprise. "A child?"

Viator nodded. Cadmus noted the excited light in his eyes. "Leea's niece…She's only a year old…She…"

"Her niece?" Cadmus questioned. "She has a sibling?" Cadmus knew that by law, quarians were only allowed to have one offspring. The Fleet maintained zero population growth.

"Had," Viator clarified. "A younger brother by two years. The ban on one child was lifted on her ship for a time. Population had shrunk. But her brother died three weeks ago in a shuttle accident."

"His wife?"

"She died when the child was born," Viator explained.

Cadmus sucked in a breath, understanding the situation now. "Leea is to adopt the child."

Viator nodded. "She's trying to. The Fleet's concerned that her niece will be raised by a turian, too. They want Leea to consent to giving her up to another couple in the Fleet. Leea's fighting them. She's there now."

Cadmus put a hand to his chin. "I can see you want to parent this child, but I agree with her Fleet. You are not quarian. She would be better cared for by them."

Viator rubbed his neck. "I know you're not implying I won't be a good father…" Time had softened Viator and Cadmus' relationship. They understood one another so well Viator no longer read Cadmus' reservations as character assassinations. "But Leea wants her niece raised by family; she's all Leea has left. Her parents passed away when she was nine. Now her brother is gone. She's not willing to give up the last link she has."

Cadmus sighed, turned and motioned forwards, walking again towards the elevator that would take him to the Presidium. Viator paced beside him. "The point is," Viator continued, "I really don't know anything about being a father. I wanted you to give me some tips."

Cadmus didn't look at Viator. He was thinking about how he had nothing to say. He was turian, just like Viator. He raised his son and his daughter in turian ways. He had no clue how a turian should raise a quarian. "My children aren't quarian. I have nothing to tell you."

Viator chuckled. "I know Garrus and Solana aren't quarian. It's not specifics I want, just general ideas."

Cadmus contemplated Viator's request. Finally he spoke. "I suppose some things are the same between the races. The neediness of young infants. You won't get as much sleep as you have been. When they grow a little, you discipline them, structure their lives, show them what life is like and how they should act." Cadmus had reached the elevator. He pushed the call button, then looked pointedly at Viator. "What I suggest is you find some good books on quarians and read up on their ways."

"There aren't a lot of books on quarian children or family ways," Viator explained, revealing he'd already tried that line of inquiry.

"Then question your wife. Learn from her."

"We've talked a little. She just told me this week. I guess I just wanted some assurance that I can do this." Viator's eyes pleaded for Cadmus' encouragement, but Cadmus only stared in his typical dispassionate way.

"I don't know if you can. A turian raising a quarian is unheard of." The door to the elevator opened and Cadmus stepped aboard, turning around quickly and saying, "Good night, cousin." Viator's face reflected disappointment as the door closed.

Cadmus felt the lift of the elevator. He might have a quarian second cousin. The thought was strange and utterly ridiculous and yet, so Viator. Perhaps Viator would see reason and tell his wife to leave her niece where she belonged: with her Fleet. But Cadmus doubted Viator would say so. His bold and naïve cousin was clearly excited about the idea of parenting a child. Cadmus recalled his awkwardness when Garrus had been born. He couldn't imagine how strenuous the situation would have been if Garrus had been from a different race. He suspected that would have made fatherhood harder by thirty fold. For the umpteenth time, Cadmus shook his head, recognizing again how far removed he and Viator were from one another.

* * *

"Take your pick," Cadmus said, gesturing to a long line of various gun models. Garrus slowly walked the racks, considering. Solana chose within seconds.

"This one," she spoke excitedly. She returned to her father's side, eyes shining energetically. She gazed around the shooting range. "This is just so amazing, dad."

Cadmus smiled, amused. The C-Sec shooting range didn't hold such awe for him. But he could guess that through the eyes of his nine year old daughter, it looked larger than life.

Laelia and the children had come in that morning. Cadmus had been at work and unable to meet them. He found them all in the apartment when he arrived home, dinner already set on the table. For the first time in almost six months, they'd eaten together. Solana chatted about her schoolwork, paying more attention to history and literature than anything else. Laelia bragged about both her children, especially Garrus' physical exploits. As Cadmus glanced at his fourteen year old son, his heart beat faster in anticipation. Garrus would be off to basic in six more months. It made Cadmus reminisce over his own basic training. He'd had harsh instructors, but he'd never complained. He'd recognized what they wanted to teach him. It had been a tough but good time in his life.

"Are you ready for basic?" he'd inquired when Solana and Laelia had paused in the conversation.

Garrus stared across at him. "I hope so."

"Your mother told me you won the wilderness competition. Well done."

Garrus nodded. "Thanks." Cadmus tried to read the emotion in his eyes, but Garrus was keeping it well hidden.

After dinner Cadmus had decided he'd like to take Garrus to the shooting range, assess his current skills. To his delight, Garrus agreed easily, no hint of annoyance or trepidation in his features. Cadmus sensed that Garrus had built confidence in himself and his ability. Solana had asked to go along as well, so Cadmus set out with his two children alone. Laelia had already arranged a get together that evening with a few Citadel friends.

Garrus stopped pacing the racks and drew out a narrow sniper rifle. He looked back down the line at his father. "Newest Punisher," he commented.

Cadmus nodded. "C-Sec is well stocked and always up to date." He watched Garrus run a hand over the sleek rifle, appreciation in his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Cadmus identified with his son's thoughts and feelings. He, too, couldn't help but admire a good quality rifle.

"Come fire it," Cadmus encouraged, an eager tone edging his words.

Garrus looked back at him and now smiled. Cadmus breathed easy. The tension he and Garrus often experienced evaporated in his son's excitement. "Okay."

Cadmus situated Garrus and Solana in parallel lanes. Solana picked up a pair of earmuffs. "What are these?"

Cadmus reached out and took the earmuffs from her. "Human. They can't take the sounds of the shots in such close quarters."

"Really?" Solana said. "Weird."

Cadmus quickly hung up the earmuffs on the side of the range. "Go ahead," he instructed his children. Garrus raised the gun to his shoulder, but he didn't fire immediately. Cadmus noticed how he weighed the gun in his hands, peered carefully through the scope and shifted his shoulder placement. Unlike when he was eleven, he didn't shoot haphazardly. He took his time, making sure he and the rifle understood one another. _He'd make a good sniper_, Cadmus thought to himself, wondering if Garrus had a military life in his future. Cadmus thought he should inquire what Garrus planned to pursue after basic. If he had decided on the military, General Fedorian would be able to give him pointers. He could arrange a meeting between his son and good friend.

Cadmus heard the sound rapid popping of shots. He turned his attention to Solana, who had fallen back a few steps. He stifled a chuckle. "Wow," she breathed out, staring at the gun in her hands. "That's powerful."

Cadmus walked over to her, putting his hand against her back and directing her to a better position. "It's an Avalanche shotgun. Be careful with that one." He glanced down the lane. Solana's shots on the target had gone all over the place. "You need to stand still and concentrate."

"Right." Solana brought the gun up, both her eyes narrowing fiercely. Cadmus smiled at his daughter. At nine, she was still the same tenacious turian. She was academic more than physical, but that didn't change her will to achieve in all subjects. What she lacked in skill she more than made up for in determination. She'd get better over time. Cadmus knew she'd dedicate herself to her improvement.

Another shot fired and Cadmus eyed Garrus' target. A perfect shot to the head. Garrus lowered the rifle. "What do you think?" Cadmus asked.

Garrus looked at him, eyes gleaming. "It's so smooth. Easy to fire. I wish we had these back home."

"They'll show up there soon," Cadmus assured, walking over to his son. "Good shot."

Garrus glimpsed down the lane. "Thanks." He raised the gun again and fired, now a shot to the heart. Cadmus was reminded of his own rifle skill. Perhaps Garrus had taken after him after all.

A cry of frustration cut the air from Solana's lane. Cadmus turned at her exclamation, seeing that her shots on the target still remained scattered and unfocused. "Take your time, Solana. Don't let emotion control your shots."

Garrus snorted and Cadmus looked back at him. His son smiled at him humorously, then spoke to his sister. "You'd better do what he says. He'll pound that into you all day otherwise." Cadmus smiled back at Garrus. The fact that his son was now joking about all the training Cadmus had put into him revealed maybe he wasn't so disgruntled anymore.

Solana clenched her jaw, but shot again. It was a little better, but not much. Garrus fired after her, a shot in the arm of the target. "Ha!" Solana shouted. "You missed!"

Garrus turned to her, holding the rifle loosely in his hands. "I didn't miss. I meant to shoot in the arm."

"Oh, right," Solana returned, lowering her shotgun and glaring at her brother. "At home, you always go on and on about how hitting in the head or heart is best. 'If you don't hit there,'" Solana was now mimicking her brother's voice, "'What's the point in firing anyway.'"

Cadmus hadn't realized until now how much of a hand Garrus must have taken in training his sister. Apparently, Garrus' role had become more than a big brother, acting as his sister's mentor and instructor.

"Well, I'm sure sometime you'll want to take an enemy alive. You've got to shoot somewhere else, then, don't you?"

"Then why didn't you say that last time we practiced?" Solana argued.

Cadmus raised his hand. "Alright. Enough arguing. Shoot a few more rounds, then we'll head home. It's late."

Solana raised her shotgun, even more determined after her conflict with Garrus to get it right. Garrus, however, let out a low breath. Cadmus noticed Garrus' gaze had fixated over his his shoulder. Cadmus turned to see another turian had entered the range. He was formidable, taller even than Cadmus. He was steely gray, similar to Cadmus, but his facial structure was altogether different. Two elongated protrusions jutted backwards from above his mandibles. He also lacked any facial markings. He frowned down Cadmus and his children like they were misplaced.

"I didn't know C-Sec had taken to training children," he spoke in a smooth voice.

Solana had fired and then turned when the turian spoke. She stared at him with wide eyes.

"These are _my_ children," Cadmus answered, deciding to take the turian's words as a statement of curiosity rather than an insult. "I'm Chief Cadmus Vakarian."

"A family outing. How quaint," the turian returned condescendingly. He stood with his hands behind his back, looking to Cadmus like a no-nonsense general. "Isn't it late?" the turian asked, his voice hinting that Cadmus should take his children and move on.

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "We have a few more rounds to fire." He motioned to Solana and Garrus. "Continue."

Garrus pulled his eyes off the turian, seeming suddenly nervous, but he obeyed his father and fired the rifle. Solana, too, fired. Cadmus heard the steps of the turian pacing behind him, but he didn't turn to look. He would just have to be patient. He didn't own the shooting range. When they finished, Cadmus instructed his children to swap out thermal clips and place them back on the racks. They did so with the intense eyes of the turian scrutinizing them the whole time. Cadmus marched to the door of the range and exited. The moment the door closed, Garrus gushed as they walked.

"Do you know who that was?"

Cadmus' mandibles flexed. "I do."

"Who? Who is he?" Solana asked, mandibles fluttering, clearly irritated she didn't understand.

"Saren Arterius," Garrus informed her, his voice awed. "He was the youngest turian ever to become a Spectre."

"Oh…" Solana intoned, glancing back as they walked. "A Spectre. Wow."

"Dad, have you ever worked with a Spectre?" Garrus asked.

"No. C-Sec and the Spectres don't usually combine their investigations. Spectres are on Council missions, not C-Sec business."

Cadmus mused as he walked down the hall. Spectres usually kept out of sight. They were rarely seen on the Citadel, he assumed meeting with the Council and then running off around the galaxy to complete whatever mission the Council assigned them. He knew Venari didn't entirely approve of them. They weren't bound by law and could investigate pretty much however they wanted, breaking rules in the process if they so desired. Cadmus had never known a Spectre and he didn't think it likely he would any time soon.

They had almost reached the doors that left the training section of the Academy, when a new figure entered. Cadmus bristled.

"A human," Garrus mumbled next to him.

Yes, a human. The one human Cadmus despised more than any in the galaxy: Eugene Harkin. Harkin saw Cadmus and immediately averted his eyes, passing him and his children quickly. Cadmus paused to look back, and noted that Harkin made his way to the shooting range and entered. He narrowed his eyes. Was it happenstance Harkin had gone to the range at this moment? His mind felt troubled, but was interrupted when Solana's pleading voice spoke to him.

"Can we get some cremoris?" Solana begged. Cadmus knew she must have sighted a turian dessert establishment along the way. It was night. Laelia probably didn't want the children eating sweets now. But as he looked into Solana's pleading eyes, he relented. He didn't get to be with his children often enough; a little evening treat wouldn't hurt this once.

"Alright."

"Yes!" Solana exclaimed.

Cadmus followed his children toward the turian eatery, thoughts of degenerate human officers and Spectres possibly having clandestine meetings forgotten. After all, a turian Spectre would have no desire to conspire with a human, would he?

* * *

When Cadmus entered his office the next day it was abuzz with chatter. The Spectre Saren had been sighted across the Citadel. Everyone speculated concerning his current mission. He hadn't shown up on station in the Wards in years as far as anyone knew. He usually kept to the Council chambers and at times the Presidium. Cadmus had to rein his teams in, command them to forget about Spectres and concentrate on their own cases that needed solving.

By mid-day, the precinct was functioning normally. Cadmus had met with the heads of the teams, catching up on the states of their cases. Denae as always was efficient and on top of things. Gratus had managed to hang onto leadership of the other team by playing nice with Cadmus. Meetings with him weren't chummy—simply business oriented. But Gratus _was_ a good detective and Cadmus had to admit that every time they met together. After the meetings, Cadmus set his own mind on a couple of complicated cases he hadn't handed over yet, doing his own preliminary investigating so he could pass them on with sound advice. He paused to read over a message Denae sent him, informing him enforcement had brought in another batarian, this one ranting and raving about the doom of the galaxy. Apparently he'd also accosted a passing human. Tychus was going to run him through a quick interview, then let enforcement book him. Cadmus skimmed the message quickly, not really interested as the event had become ordinary operations in Zakera these days.

Ten minutes later, his door wooshed open abruptly. Cadmus couldn't help but look up in annoyance. He had set the door to respond only at his voice command so as not to be disturbed unless he so desired. He opened his mouth to reprimand whoever had entered so rudely, but shut it slowly when he perceived his new guest—it was the tall turian with the odd facial structure from last night, the Spectre Saren Arterius.

"Chief…Vakarian, isn't it?" the turian spoke, advancing on Cadmus' desk. He didn't offer his arm for a wrist grip, just stared down at Cadmus.

Cadmus rose from his chair. He didn't like the way this Spectre was looking at him—his visage screamed arrogance and derision on Cadmus' position. _He's spent too much time enjoying his own power_. Cadmus decided he wasn't going to look up to the Spectre while sitting down. He would stand and face him head on, turian to turian.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Straight to the point. Good," Saren commended. He rubbed his hands together. "You arrested a batarian I'm interested in."

"Name?" Cadmus asked shortly, reaching for a data pad.

"Antel Eluam. Don't bother checking. He's scheduled for an interrogation right now."

Cadmus moved his hand to his chin. It bothered him that Saren knew exactly what was happening in his precinct. His Spectre status gave him knowledge Cadmus hadn't expected. "My interrogator is handling it, then."

"Pull your interrogator out. _I_ will conduct my own interrogation."

"It's not procedure to…"

Saren let out a loud guffaw. "C-Sec procedure is of no consequence. By order of the Council, I will speak to the batarian first—when _I_ want to. You can call the Executor if you need confirmation."

Cadmus drew in a breath. "It's not necessary." Cadmus put his hand to his ear. "Denae…Tell Tychus to stop the interrogation…A Spectre is here to question the batarian…"

"Tell them to turn off all listening devices. I will speak to him without being overheard."

Cadmus ground his jaw, fighting a feeling of anger welling up within him. The Spectre spoke so haughtily and his gaze dripped with superiority. But Cadmus knew he had no choice. "Turn off the recorders. And don't observe…Yes…Vakarian out." Cadmus set a severe look on the turian Spectre. "She understands. You can go down to Room 4."

Saren nodded his head and turned back to the door.

Cadmus, feeing bitter, couldn't help but call out after him. "You can't trust Harkin."

Saren turned and Cadmus felt smug satisfaction in his startled look and flap of his mandibles. The Spectre clearly _had_ met with Harkin and hadn't thought anyone knew of the rendezvous. Cadmus' jibe had been well placed, he hoped humbling the Spectre, revealing he didn't operate with total omniscience.

"I suggest you forget about what you think you saw," Saren ground out.

"I don't care why you met with him. I'm just warning you he isn't trustworthy."

Saren laughed loudly. "_You're_ warning _me_? I know more about Eugene Harkin than he knows about himself. He's human. Of course he can't be trusted. I don't need to trust him. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have his uses." Saren walked to the door of the room. It swooshed open, but he didn't move forward, just looked back over his shoulder. "Let me give _you_ some advice, Chief. Don't just think of people as criminals and victims. Think of them as tools. You get more out of them that way." Saren left the room.

Cadmus sat back down in his chair, his jaw aching with how tightly he clenched it. He picked up his data pad to go back to his cases, but Saren's attitude kept troubling him. He understood why Venari detested Spectres. He was quickly sharing his opinion. In less than five minutes time, Cadmus' door chimed. "Who is it?" Cadmus called out, a bit too harshly, still boiling over Saren's treatment of his office.

"Denae. We need to see you immediately."

"Come in," Cadmus called out. The door swooshed open and both Danae and Tychus entered.

"That Spectre's taking our culprit!" Tychus yelled out, stomping up to Cadmus' desk.

"What?" Cadmus asked, shooting up from his seat.

"He is," Denae confirmed. "He left the interrogation room with him." Every criminal brought into the precinct was electronically tagged. His movements were tracked and if he entered a place he wasn't supposed to be, those who were in charge of him would receive the information on their omni-tools. "Did you authorize this?"

"No," Cadmus growled, heading to the door, followed by Denae and Tychus. He marched down the halls.

"Aren't you going to interrogation?" Tychus asked.

"No." Cadmus hurried along purposefully. Cadmus predicted the turian Spectre wouldn't waste time with protocols and check the batarian out officially. Cadmus, therefore, headed straight to the entrance of the precinct. He had predicted correctly. The turian was coming down another hall, headed right for the door, his arm clenched around a batarian who was yelling.

"Stop him! Stop! He's insane! He doesn't know what he's doing!"

Cadmus positioned himself firmly at the end of the hall, Denae and Tychus flanking him, blocking the Spectre's forward movement.

"I have received no authorization that we are to release this prisoner to you," Cadmus explained angrily.

Saren scowled down at him from his height. Cadmus could have sworn his pupils constricted. "I don't need to fumble through red tape. Move aside."

"We haven't completed our own investigation."

"Your own investigation is pittance compared to mine."

"He wants the truth!" the batarian cried out. "He wants to see it. To feel the darkness like I have. He doesn't know what he's doing. You need to…Ahhhhh!"

Saren had thrown his hostage to the ground and pressed his boot into his neck, causing the batarian to gulp for air. "Shut up!"

Cadmus bristled in anger to see a suspect treated in such a manner. Now he noticed the right side of the batarian's face was swelling from a recent punch. He'd been booked in unharmed according to the report Denae sent him. Cadmus strode up to the Spectre and gripped his upper arm tightly. "Let. Him. Go."

Saren glowered at Cadmus with flaming eyes. "He's not your concern anymore."

"Denae!" Cadmus called without looking back. "Call the Executor. Confirm this turian's authorization."

"Yes, sir." Denae fiddled with her omni-tool and in a moment could be heard talking to Decimus. "We have a Spectre here, Saren Arterius. He says he is authorized to take our prisoner, Antel Eluam…No…I'm not sure…" Denae spoke to Saren. "Do you have the appropriate Council request?"

Saren breathed out derisively. "The Council doesn't need to approve my action. As a Spectre, I have permanent authorization."

Cadmus kept his eyes fixed on Saren, but spoke to Denae. "Tell the Executor he does not."

Saren growled deep in his throat.

"He can't show us any Council request…Yes…We'll wait…" Denae spoke to Cadmus. "The Executor is confirming."

"While we wait," Cadmus spoke measuredly, "You can let the batarian go."

Saren smiled widely, his mandibles pushed out extraordinarily far. "Lucky for me, I don't have to obey your orders, Chief." He pushed his boot farther into the batarian's neck, causing him to splutter.

"If he dies…" Cadmus began.

Saren chortled. "He's no use to me dead."

"Yes, sir," Denae's voice spoke, then paused a moment. "Yes?...Alright…Chief, Councilor Sparatus says to let the Spectre take the prisoner." Cadmus reluctantly released Saren from his grip.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Saren spoke condescendingly, removing his foot from the batarian's windpipe and yanking him up off the floor.

Cadmus stiffened. "It would have saved time if you'd acquired the appropriate Council request before you showed up here."

Saren grinned wickedly. He pulled the batarian along past the three C-Sec officers and as he did spoke sardonically. "I shouldn't have to produce a request. My authority is clear. Maybe next time you'll keep your mouths shut and let a Spectre do the big boy work."

* * *

When Cadmus returned home that evening, he'd been in a foul mood. He hadn't explained the reason to anyone, not even Laelia. It wasn't right to bad mouth Council appointed Spectres, but he now shared Venari's views on Spectres one hundred percent. This Saren Arterius had stomped on Citadel law as if it didn't even exist. And really, it didn't for him. Cadmus had gone to bed brooding. Not being bound by law only worked so far as it went. A good man could be unbound by law and still do good. But a power hungry man could wreak havoc. Cadmus determined that on a scale Saren tended towards the power hungry end. As such, Cadmus concluded he was a turian who would easily set aside his own honor for his own ends. It was a scary prospect. He hoped the Council would keep their eye and reins on their most infamous turian Spectre.

A week later, Cadmus found himself at work on his day off, at least for the morning. An arrest had been made in an important case and he needed to be present for the interrogation. On his way home, he'd received a message from Viator letting him know he'd taken Garrus and Solana down to the Academy combat room. Viator had stopped by the apartment and found the children restless so he'd graciously taken them off Laelia's hands for awhile. Cadmus reversed his direction and headed instead to the Lower Wards, desiring to assess his children's, especially Solana's, combat skills. When Cadmus arrived, he found Garrus and Solana already in action, battling against one another. He slipped in quietly and walked up to Viator who watched from the sidelines. Viator looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Your children are quite commendable," he whispered.

Cadmus didn't answer, his concentration on the combat mat. Garrus, being older, certainly had the height advantage over his sister. At fourteen, he was only a foot shorter than Cadmus. Still, Solana had passion. Cadmus observed how she used her energy to counter Garrus' moves. But Garrus was more knowledgeable and faster. He took advantage of every slip up. Cadmus knew Solana's main problem in combat was her lack of thinking. She came at combat with pure drive but little thought. Garrus, however, had learned to think in the midst of combat pressure. It wasn't long before he had Solana down on the mat. When he released her, Solana popped up, mandibles shaking in frustration.

"It's not fair! You always win!" she shouted.

Garrus smiled mischievously at her. "Then stop fighting me."

Solana sucked in an angry breath. "I hate it. You win just because you're bigger."

"Mom says size shouldn't matter in combat, remember? If you do it right, you can win. Second round." He paced to one end of the mat.

Solana opened her mouth to yell something else, but Cadmus spoke up. "Try it again. Don't give up."

Solana and Garrus both looked to the side, suddenly aware their father had joined his cousin in observing their practice. Solana nodded swiftly to her father, submitting to his order and moving to her end of the mat. She turned and crouched down.

"Prim!" Garrus called out. Cadmus watched as Solana charged forwards. Obviously, her anger wasn't under control. She came at Garrus faster than Cadmus had ever seen. Garrus, however, wasn't to be taken aback by Solana's fierce moves. He knew her too well. He deftly avoided her frontal assault, grabbing her around the middle and spinning her around. Solana kept from being thrown to the mat by pushing hard against Garrus' hold and bracing her feet on the mat. She then brought her knee up angrily, managing to catch Garrus in his thigh. Garrus growled out and let go. Solana then pushed a hard palm into his abdomen and then another.

Although Garrus was winded, he wasn't giving up. He grabbed at Solana's right arm, intending to twist it behind her back, but Solana kicked forcefully back, this time landing on his knee, causing him to bend for a moment and become unbalanced. Solana slipped out of his hold, then cried out angrily and jumped, slamming both palms into Garrus' chest. Garrus was obviously surprised by the ferocious blow. For a split second, Cadmus saw his eyes roll over, looking at his father. Cadmus read in his gaze the fact that he didn't want to lose, not now, not when his father was watching. So even as he stepped back, even as it seemed he might topple, he reached out and grabbed at Solana, using her solid stance to right himself. Then, his eyes furious, he pushed her backwards.

Solana stepped back a few paces, but then rushed and grabbed onto Garrus' arm, swinging herself around it and kicking into his back. She went to let go, but Garrus gripped her arm tightly. She pulled desperately against Garrus' strength. He smiled, sure he was now the victor. He pushed his body into her, leaning with his weight. Solana stumbled, but vicious determination spread over her face. Instead of capitulating, she yanked down hard, something Garrus hadn't expected her to do. Garrus found himself heading to the mat right along with her. In a sudden movement, his leg shot out and he kicked Solana's legs out from under her from behind. Solana fell with a thud and Garrus came after her, catching himself with one hand on the mat and sidestepping to keep from falling.

"Cheater!" Solana immediately yelled.

"What?" Garrus shouted back.

"You can't kick someone's feet out from under them! It's the rules!"

"I didn't cheat."

"You did, too!"

"You did cheat," Cadmus' disappointed voice called out.

Garrus looked over at his father, eyes smoldering. "But I…"

"I'm afraid, little cousin," Viator added his own two bits. "You did err. It was an illegal move."

"So I win!" Solana declared, standing up.

"No, you don't!" Garrus spoke, rounding on his sister. "You fell to the mat. You lose."

"Garrus!" Cadmus called out, both to reprimand and get his son's attention. "Admit your error. Now."

Garrus looked from Solana to Viator, then to his father. "Alright. So it was an illegal move. So what?"

Cadmus glared at his son. "Your honor…"

"Who cares?" Garrus yelled.

Cadmus clenched his jaw and stalked purposefully towards his son.

"Cadmus, maybe you should take this outside and…" Viator's voice came from behind. Cadmus jerked his head back at him, his severe look causing Viator to swallow the rest of his sentence. Cadmus came within centimeters of his son and looked down into his face.

"Your honor means more than a match. You follow the rules or you might as well not fight at all."

Garrus stared up at his father, not a hint of flinching. "Solana might as well learn to fight without rules."

Cadmus glared. "Excuse me?"

"When you fight an enemy out in the real world, they aren't going to play by the rules. You have to be ready for anything."

Cadmus let Garrus' excuse sink in. He thought rules didn't matter, not outside of combat regulations. "I assume if you are fighting an enemy, you are fighting him because he broke the rules in the first place." Garrus' mandibles tightened against his jaw. Cadmus lectured on. "_You_ must submit to the rules just as I do, just as an officer does. You won't be anything if you don't follow the rules yourself."

Garrus snorted. "An officer who never breaks the rules when he has to isn't always going to win, is he?"

Cadmus felt anger rise in his heart. "You think you can't _win_ by following the rules?"

"Not always."

Suddenly, images of Saren Arterius came back to Cadmus, the Spectre who had no regard for law, who did whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Garrus, Cadmus realized, could easily travel the same path. This would have to stop—now. Cadmus looked to Viator. "Take Solana. Stand outside. Watch if you want."

Viator nodded shortly, gesturing to Solana who followed him. The door shut behind them and they moved to peer through the glass windows. They could see, but not hear.

"I challenge you to a pugna certo."

Garrus balked. He blinked, nervousness suddenly asserting itself, replacing his defiant features. "You want to fight me?"

Cadmus nodded. They had never fought. Over time, Cadmus and Laelia had fallen into a pattern. She taught him combat, Cadmus taught him shooting—when he was home.

"But…" Garrus stammered. "I can't win against you. You're…bigger than me."

Cadmus laughed ironically. "I thought you told your sister size didn't matter." Garrus snapped his mouth close, his words coming back to haunt him. "Don't worry. This will be a different way of combat. You get to do whatever you want. Forget the rules. Anything is allowed."

Garrus swallowed. "And you…"

"I'll play by the rules…and we'll see who wins." Cadmus paced to the other end of the room, stepping behind a screen. He quickly changed out of his C-Sec armor and threw on a pair of red pugna pants and shirt. As he came around the screen, he saw Garrus at the end of the mat, shifting back and forth on his feet in trepidation.

Cadmus took his place. He stood straight and tall and shouted out loudly, "Prim!"

Garrus now seemed out of place. He hesitantly came forward, not sure what his father would do first. Cadmus mirrored his movements. When they were only meters from one another, Cadmus sprang forward. Garrus found his father on top of him faster than he expected. Cadmus lunged to his right…or so Garrus was meant to think. Garrus made to go left, but Cadmus was there. He'd faked the lunge. Cadmus observed confusion in Garrus' eyes and then sudden flames as his son realized he might very well be defeated on the first move. Cadmus spun his son around and shoved his knee deep into his back. Garrus groaned, and his knees buckled, but instead of going down under Cadmus' blow, he twisted to the right and rolled, then came to his feet. This time, he attacked. He ran forwards and performed a move that would have been illegal, except that Cadmus had suspended all rules for his son. Garrus leapt and wrapped his arm around Cadmus' neck and pulled back. As Cadmus felt the pressure on his windpipe, he remembered when Garrus was four and had been reprimanded for this very action against one of Fedorian's sons.

Garrus may have thought it a good move, but Cadmus gripped his son's arm. With his enormous strength, he wrenched Garrus' arm away from his neck with one hand while the other slid in between Garrus' arm and his neck. Cadmus thrust outwards, breaking Garrus' hold. He didn't give his son a moment to gather himself. He twisted around and sent a thrust careening into Garrus' side. Garrus grunted and sidestepped, but maintained his balance. He crouched and swung a foot out, trying to sweep Cadmus off his feet just as he had Solana. Cadmus, however, returned by punching his elbow into Garrus' knee. This time Garrus cried out in pain. But he still wasn't giving up. He feebly drew himself up and stumbled towards Cadmus, his hands now fists. He made to swing at Cadmus' head, but Cadmus deftly stepped back. Garrus' swing missed. Cadmus grabbed his son's arm, jerking him backwards. He slammed his palm into Garrus' chest with all his strength. Garrus crumbled to the mat and Cadmus pushed till he was on his back, pinned and staring up at his father. Garrus breathed in and out shallowly, his eyes wide.

"_That_ is how you win following the rules," Cadmus spat out between his own harsh breaths.

He let Garrus go and stood up, backing away to give his son room to stand. Garrus pushed himself to his knees, then slowly rose up. His chest still heaved with the effort he'd exerted and he bent over. His eyes screamed anger, disappointment and betrayal. Cadmus raised his head high.

"When you get to basic, your drill sergeants won't be your friends. If you break their rules, they'll crush you."

Garrus' eyes were locked on his father. He said nothing.

"How you perform in basic affects your entire future, Garrus. You trample the rules and you'll be deemed nothing but a waste of effort, an insubordinate who doesn't deserve to be turian."

Garrus ground out harshly, "It doesn't matter what they think of me. I won't need their approval for an engineering career."

Cadmus' mandibles clacked against his jaw. "You think so? You think a captain wants an engineer on his ship that won't do what he says when he says? Is that what you think?"

Garrus blinked and his mandibles fluttered, revealing he knew Cadmus' implication was correct. Basic training mattered. It would set the course of his entire life.

Cadmus looked to the windows of the room. Solana watched wide-eyed, having just witnessed her first combat between her father and brother. Viator stood still, the look on his face inscrutable. Cadmus glanced back at Garrus. His point had been made. Hopefully Garrus had learned it well. "Let's go home."

Cadmus walked to the screen, undressing from the combat clothes and throwing them in a hamper. He put his armor back on. When he emerged, Garrus had changed as well on his side of the room. Cadmus moved to the door, passing Garrus on the way. As he did so, his son said lowly, "I'm not you."

Cadmus paused at the door and turned his head to stare back to Garrus. "I never said you had to be. But you _are_ turian, so act like it." With that, he stepped forward and out of the door.


	23. Pivot

As Cadmus entered his office, a haunting, ethereal melody flowed over him. It was quite beautiful, but entirely unexpected…until he saw Viator sitting in a chair next to Paeon, holding out his omni-tool. Paeon glanced up momentarily and smiled slightly at Cadmus. Cadmus knew it had to be Kemi's voice coming from the tool.

Viator looked over at Cadmus. "Come listen!"

Cadmus drew in a breath, preparing himself to offer some kind of compliment. He walked over and stood quietly, listening. The song heightened, then dipped and came to a low end. Two accented voices followed. "Is that all?" "Uh huh. That's all, daddy Viator!" The recording ended.

"She's good, isn't she?" Viator beamed at Cadmus and Paeon.

"The music is commendable," Cadmus commented. "She seems skilled."

"Best in her age group," Viator gushed.

Cadmus made his way behind his desk. Kemi'Gren nar Vleehad was Viator's so-called daughter, currently four years old. She was quarian, a child with dark curly hair, pale skin and luminescent eyes. Cadmus had never really seen a picture of a quarian until Viator showed him Kemi. No one seemed to consider quarians unless their Fleet ended up in his system. No one cared what they looked like, just that they didn't bring trouble when they showed up.

As Cadmus turned on his work computer, he peered across at Viator whose eyes glowed with pride. It didn't matter to Viator that his "daughter" was a different race—he cared deeply for her regardless. Even more amazing, he didn't care that he had never met her in person. Cadmus recalled how disappointed Viator had been to learn that although Leea had gained custody of her niece, the Fleet had demanded Kemi stay on her ship until she received her first enviro-suit at the age of twelve. This meant Viator could only see or hear her through recorded messages; at times he talked to her in real time long distance. Leea had spent more time with the Fleet again, being the mother that Kemi needed, leaving Viator on his own. For this reason, he'd taken to hanging out with Cadmus more, and more often than not, bragging about Kemi.

Cadmus had a difficult time comprehending Viator's excitement. Pride in your children, he could understand. Pride over a child you had nothing to do with bringing into existence, whom you hadn't planned on and who was a completely different species than you he had a harder time getting. It wasn't common for species to raise orphans from different races. In fact, Viator was the only one Cadmus knew who had a "child" of a different species. The turians he knew who had hooked up with asari didn't count in his mind. First, there weren't many of them. And second, asari children born of genetic alteration from turian mates still bore something from their fathers, if not their physical characteristics.

Cadmus skimmed through his work alerts before turning to Viator. "Did you come to brag or do you have another reason for occupying my office?"

Viator laughed. "I'm sorry if my pride is too difficult for you, cousin." Viator smiled knowingly and Cadmus had the uncomfortable feeling his cousin had read his thoughts. "I _do_ have a reason—to visit Paeon."

Paeon chuckled. "Oh really. You've never taken the time to come down here to talk to me before." A year ago, Gratus' surveillance expert had left the team. Decimus had assigned Paeon to the position. Cadmus had been more than happy to welcome Paeon into his precinct. Now if he could only get Kepel, too.

"Okay…so I only wanted you to listen to this," Viator said, waving his arm with the omni-tool attached. "You seem the only one who really cares most of the time."

Paeon grinned. "I have an ear for good music, no matter the species."

"So…" Cadmus concluded. "You came down to show off. You've done that. We need to get to work."

Viator guffawed. "Dear Cadmus, duty to the core. Alright. I did have something else I wanted to tell you."

Cadmus eyed his cousin. "Yes?"

"I'm being transferred out of Bachjret after 25 years."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed in surprise. "Where?"

"Tayseri. "

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "Did you bribe Decimus?" he half-joked.

"No," Viator returned jovially. "I think my own hard work paid off."

"Well, then, congratulations."

"I offer my felicitations as well," Paeon said.

Cadmus smiled slowly. "You _could_ have just called me."

"Yes, well, I guess, but…" Viator paused as he noted the humor in Cadmus' eyes. "Well, I _had_ to let you hear the voice of the cutest quarian alive, didn't I? Some day she'll be signing autographs and you can say you knew her."

Cadmus chuckled softly. "Uh huh. Sure. Now…"

Viator stood. "I'm going…Have a good day, officers." He exited through the door, a spring in his step.

Cadmus looked to Paeon. "He's almost as optimistic as you," Cadmus teased. Paeon was still the same—a compassionate turian who tried to see life through others' eyes.

Paeon nodded, accepting Cadmus' statement as the compliment it was intended to be. "Do you need me this morning?"

"Yes. You know the Zaglek case? I need an analysis of the surveillance outside the club."

"I'll get on it immediately."

"Good. Come back when you've found something."

"Yes, sir." Paeon stood and left.

Cadmus shifted, settling himself in his seat and staring blankly at his computer screen. The melody Kemi had been singing was stuck in his head. It _was_ beautiful _and_ impressive. Perhaps she did have a future in music, though he figured she would need other skills as well as a member of the Migrant Fleet. Though, maybe like her mother she'd find a way to leave the Fleet behind, at least partially. He wondered briefly if it was even right for Viator to encourage such ideas. The Fleet needed every quarian it produced to maintain itself. It wouldn't be right for Kemi to abandon her people.

Cadmus' thoughts turned briefly to his own son's future. Garrus had excelled in basic training. Cadmus proudly reflected that all his hard work, and Laelia's, had paid off. Garrus left boot camp with commendations galore. He'd been assigned to a field unit, a good ship that went on some dangerous missions, showing that the military held Garrus' skills in high regard. Laelia worried, but didn't say anything to her son. Cadmus had told her he wasn't a child anymore—he was an adult, young, but an adult nonetheless. He asserted Garrus wouldn't become even better if the military assigned him to easy missions—he'd rise in the ranks through challenge, not babying. And yet Garrus had recently taken a break from the military—or was about to. It wasn't a break per se, but that's the way Cadmus felt about it.

Garrus, without telling Cadmus, had applied for a scholarship program. When he'd been accepted, he'd let Cadmus in on it with a quick e-mail. The scholarship allowed him to be part of a select group of turian youths to travel the galaxy for a summer learning engineering concepts from various species. On the itinerary was Thessia, Sur'Kesh, Mars and a quick stop on Dekuuna. The program was supposed to promote the collaboration of engineers with one another. Cadmus didn't think it wrong to collaborate; his objections came from the fact that Garrus was wasting his skills by doggedly pursuing engineering as a career. He knew Garrus wasn't interested only in engines—he'd spent a lot of his time onboard his ship learning about weapons systems. His son was logical, had a honed mind, and that was good, but he had much more to offer.

Cadmus sighed as he scanned through work related e-mails. He didn't know if Garrus had sensed his reluctance. He must have suspected it since he didn't even mention the scholarship until he had received it. Truth was, any goodwill Cadmus had built with his son had been destroyed after their fight in the Academy combat room three years ago. They hardly talked now what with Garrus consumed with his military duties. Most of the news he received concerning his son came second hand from Laelia. Still, Garrus must have at least acted on Cadmus' years of disciplined instruction—his officers had nothing but praise for his actions.

Cadmus opened an important e-mail concerning a human case. Humans had moved into Zakera. The batarians had left the Citadel two years ago, pulling out their embassy and people. They were angry the Council hadn't taken their side in the batarian-human conflicts of the Skyllian Verge. To be honest, no one cared. All Cadmus heard from C-Sec officers, and most citizens, was relief. Batarians had been a constant source of criminal activity. Everyone felt they could breathe a little easier—that is, until the humans decided Zakera Ward's empty housing units would serve them well. It was ironic that former batarian housing had now turned into human housing. Not all of it, but a majority. This meant the Zakera precincts had a new species to keep up with and study for its criminal elements. And sadly, the humans had enough criminals to keep them busy.

As Cadmus pulled up the human case file, he ordered himself to stop reminiscing over his son's upbringing. Garrus would be leaving Palaven today. Like it or not, he'd have to get used to the fact his son had chosen to be an engineer. At this point, Garrus wouldn't let anything get in his way.

* * *

Cadmus spent the day mired in cases and various meetings with members of his two teams. It was business as usual. Cadmus still enjoyed detective work, liked that he'd moved up the chain of command, but at times regretted his promotion as he found himself so often behind a desk. His teams did most of the grunt work now. He missed taking part in the action. But he was also glad Decimus had trusted him enough to hand him more leadership. He was able to step back from the minutiae and see the larger picture of the precinct. In fact, one of the advantages of his position was that he could connect the dots between cases, perceiving how certain cases affected others. This meant his precinct solved more crimes, more quickly. All in all, he was content with his current career.

At the end of the day, Cadmus spent little time with the social group. He was tired. He stayed until Viator brought up the file of Kemi singing. As the group voiced their own compliments, he bid good-bye and slipped away. He decided to stroll leisurely towards home, glad he had no reason to hurry. He should have felt happy, but he was rather melancholy. Garrus was probably already on a ship headed out of the turian system. Solana would have her head in a book rather than her hand on a shotgun. She was decent with a gun, but just like Garrus, defending justice didn't call to her. She wanted to train her academic mind and use it for her livelihood. _Stop brooding_, Cadmus commanded himself. His children were respectable beings, good turians. He had no reason to regret their life choices. Still…it was one thing to tell your head such a thing and another to make your emotion believe it.

Cadmus eventually reached his apartment. He made it to the couch and collapsed onto it. He removed his gloves, setting them on a side table, and rubbed his eyes with his first fingers, then closed them. How long had it been since he'd seen Laelia? Three months? He knew Laelia missed him terribly right now. Her joy, her son, had left her to pursue his own life. He knew she loved both her children, but Garrus was her first born and so occupied a special place in her heart. He thought maybe he should call her, but his body felt like a lead weight. _I should pull myself off of here before I can't anymore._ Cadmus breathed deeply, his mind gradually shutting down…

Cadmus blinked his eyes open. He yawned loudly and sat up slowly. He felt stiff all over. He looked down. No wonder. He'd fallen asleep in his C-Sec armor. He'd just begun to stumble towards the bedroom when it occurred to him why he'd awoken: a beeping was coming from the screen on the wall—an incoming call. He walked over, taking note of the flashing indicator. He was surprised to see it was Arsenius. He hadn't talked to his good friend in quite a while. He touched his hand to the screen and the flashing indicator was replaced by Aresnius' dark face graced with white tattoos.

"Cadmus!" Arsenius spoke with relief. "Finally I got you!"

"Sorry. I fell asleep."

"Oh, yes, of course," Arsenius spoke, mostly to himself. "I forget the time difference with the Citadel. I guess I forget time altogether these days what with ship life my focus."

"Ship life? I thought you had your hand in Palaven politics these days."

"Here and there," Aresnius replied dismissively. "But that's not why I called you. Cadmus, it's about Laelia."

Cadmus felt his heart leap, but he maintained a calm demeanor. "What is it?"

"First off, she's mostly alright. She's alive. There's nothing to get worked up over."

Cadmus didn't like the way Arsenius was preparing him. Arsenius usually spoke straight with him. Something had to be wrong. "_What_ happened?"

Arsenius took a breath and his mandibles jerked uncomfortably. "Laelia was injured in a hit and run. She called me. I don't think she wanted to worry you."

Cadmus' heart beat harshly in his chest. "How badly?" he stammered, his mouth suddenly dry.

"A broken arm, broken leg. A slight head injury. The doctor says she's going to recover quickly and be fine."

Cadmus felt rage growing inside his chest. "Suspects?"

Arsenius' mandibles flapped again. "None yet. They're reviewing surveillance footage. To tell you the truth, I'm off planet. I've only talked to the detective in charge of the investigation briefly. You might be able to get farther."

Cadmus was already thinking of who to contact. "Thank you for letting me know. I need to go. I need to call Laelia."

"Of course. I don't know if she'll have her omni-tool on her. I can send you the link to her hospital room."

"Do it."

"Sending now." Arsenius looked down momentarily. Cadmus felt his tool vibrate. He flipped it on, already sending the call to his comm screen.

"Spirits be with you, Cadmus."

Cadmus stopped briefly, looking up at Arsenius' sympathetic face. "You, too." The screen went dark. Cadmus finished connecting the screen. He waited impatiently, his foot taping the ground. As he waited, he thought of scenarios. Had a drunk lost his focus? Had drugs played a role? Or maybe a distracted driver? Or…had Laelia been at fault? Accidentally not paying attention and stepped in the way? He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

The screen flickered for a moment, then slowly dissolved. His wife's face appeared. Her head was bandaged, covering her right eye, and he could see the beginnings of a brace on her right arm. Even in her state, she opened her mouth in a wry smile. "Cadmus…Arsenius contacted you, didn't he?"

"Yes," Cadmus returned shortly. "You should have called me."

Laelia grimaced. "I know…but you're so busy these days. I would have eventually. It's nothing really."

"Nothing?" Cadmus echoed. "A head injury, a broken arm and a broken leg are nothing?"

Laelia chuckled softly. "They're _nothing_ compared to labor."

Cadmus admired her humor, even found it slightly funny. He couldn't really vouch for her assessment, not having faced birth himself, but he knew it hadn't been easy, especially for her. "I suppose so."

"I _know_ so. Truthfully, Cadmus, I'm going to be alright."

Cadmus put his hands on his hips. "I'll catch the first flight in the morning."

"No, you won't." Laelia's eyes burned fiercely.

"Yes, I will."

"No. Cadmus, there's no point. By the time you get here, I'll be mostly mended anyway. It really isn't as bad as Arsenius apparently made it sound."

Cadmus appreciated Laelia's bravery, but it didn't change what he felt was his duty. "I can ask Decimus for early leave. I'm sure I can get it."

"We both know that if you come here, most of your mind will be tied up back at the Citadel. Your teams haven't planned for your absence. They'll need you."

Cadmus sighed. Laelia was all too right. She was staring at him with her clear blue eyes. He'd always loved those eyes. "It seems this time, you'll get _your_ way."

"About time," Laelia returned, laughing. Cadmus thought wistfully that he also had always loved her laugh. In truth, he loved everything about her.

"You'll need someone to tend to you."

"Oh, you can guess what mom and dad did when they found out. They're going to take me to their house for a while with Solana. I have to go, I know. It's nice of them to help out, but I really think I could be fine on my own. Sol's old enough to help me."

"Well, don't fight them. Let them care for their only offspring."

"Of course, I will." Another figure appeared in the background and Laelia looked over. "Just a moment. My husband." The figure backed out of view. Laelia looked to Cadmus. "The nurse. I think they want to run a few more tests."

Cadmus drew in a harsh breath. "Before I go, can you tell me what you told the detective? Can you describe your assailant?"

Laelia's mandibles flexed. "I can't. I don't remember anything. I don't even remember being hit. I had a bit of a concussion, but the doctor tested me and I'm fine now. I just don't remember."

Cadmus nodded. It was in a way a blessing. If she didn't remember, she wouldn't suffer the emotional trauma of the event so strongly. And yet, it meant if good surveillance footage wasn't found, they had no identity for the perpetrator of the crime.

"I want you to take it easy and rest," Cadmus spoke commandingly. "After all, Solana _is_ twelve, as you pointed out, old enough to take care of herself. Let her do so and you concentrate on healing."

"I will."

"Promise me."

Laelia smiled. "I promise, Cadmus. Stop worrying."

Cadmus now smiled. "I can try, but I will _not_ promise."

Laelia's mandibles puffed slowly in and out. "I know. Thank you."

"Rest," Cadmus repeated. "Good-bye." He reached out and shut down the screen, then began to work furiously on his omni-tool. Time to make another call and find out who had the audacity to injure his precious wife.

* * *

Cadmus spent the night in fitful bouts of sleep. His call to old cop friends on Palaven had yielded nothing but an assurance that the case was being worked on. At the most, his prodding had moved the case up in importance. He'd been assured they'd contact him when they had more information. Cadmus turned on his side again, a frustrated growl emanating from his throat. He flicked on his omni-tool for a time check: 0258. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, running through relaxation techniques he'd been taught long ago during military training. Sleep was vital. Soldiers needed to be at their best. As before, he slipped into a quasi-sleep state, part of his mind still active and tormenting him with dreams of Laelia being pursued by a shadowy enemy.

Finally, at 0400, Cadmus heard the sound of the comm unit in the living room chiming again. He jumped up, threw on a shirt and made a beeline for the screen. To his surprise, it wasn't one of his old buddies—it was Laelia again. She must have gotten a hold of her omni-tool since the screen flashed her name. He tapped quickly and Laelia's face came into existence, the bandage still on her head, concern troubling her uncovered eye.

"Yes? What is it?"

Laelia swallowed. "I'm still fine. It's not about me. It's about our son."

Garrus? Cadmus tilted his head. "Our son? Did something happen _already_ on his trip?"

Laelia sighed heavily. "He didn't go on the trip."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed in confusion. "It's all he's been talking about for months. What do you mean he didn't go?"

Laelia put a hand to her forehead. "He found out about me. Arsenius called him, too."

Cadmus intuited what had occurred instantly. Arsenius had told him and Garrus had rushed back to Cipritine, not willing to leave when his mother had been injured. Cadmus well knew how much Garrus loved his mother. It didn't surprise him, but did bother him. Garrus was acting on emotion _again_. He gave up a once in a lifetime scholarship in rash response to his emotion. "What did you tell him?"

"That he needed to go back and get on the ship, that I wasn't going to let him give up on his dream…The ship had already left. He won't be going…and he won't get a second chance." Laelia's face fell, her mandibles drooping. She was in pain for her son.

"I'm sorry."

Laelia looked up, her eye suddenly hard. "Cadmus, he's giving up on what he's always wanted."

"Even without the trip, he can still be an engineer. He might have to work harder…" Cadmus began to reassure his wife, but Laelia cut him off.

"He said he's going to sign up with the Cohort Elitum."

Cadmus' mandibles flapped in surprise. The Cohort Elitum trained turians to be efficient with all sorts of weaponry and honed the body and the mind for the focus of battle. From it, the best future soldiers and cops were chosen; Cadmus himself had been a member. Turians who made it through the program earned automatic honor and respect. Cadmus couldn't help but feel his heart swell with pride. "It's a good choice."

Laelia flung up her undamaged hand. "A good choice? It's not what he wants. He's doing this because he thinks _you_ want him to be a cop."

Cadmus felt immediate irritation rise within him. "If he's decided to be a cop, then let him be one."

Laelia sighed in exasperation. "You're just going to let him walk away from his dream?"

Cadmus folded his arms over his chest. "Do you understand _why_ he walked away?"

Laelia cocked her head. "Why? Because he wants his father to be proud of him."

"Or maybe," Cadmus asserted. "Because his mother ended up in a hospital bed because someone hit her and left her broken. Maybe he's seeing that the world is a dangerous place and there's value in bringing criminals to justice."

Laelia's mandibles quivered and her gaze softened. "I didn't think about that. He didn't say it like that."

"I don't think he would," Cadmus returned. "He's not going to tell his doting mother that he's made a decision because she means more to him than any dream he thought he had."

Laelia spoke, her voice low. "There are so many soldiers and cops. He doesn't need to be one."

"He doesn't have to, but it's an honorable decision. An engineer can keep a ship functioning, but he isn't directly involved in bringing criminals in. Perhaps Garrus now wants to be closer to the action."

Laelia brought her hand to her forehead again, apparently thinking. "I don't know, Cadmus…"

Cadmus sucked in a breath. "It's his life, Laelia. Let him make the choice."

Laelia looked up and he read in her eyes a bit of irony. How many times had she told him such a thing? "Yes…You're right. He's mature. He can make his own choices. But, Cadmus, don't interfere. If he changes his mind and doesn't sign up…"

"I won't sway him," Cadmus guaranteed, though he desperately hoped Garrus wouldn't go back. "Now, I know it's late there. You _should_ be sleeping and healing."

Laelia nodded. "Alright…Good night…Sorry to bother you."

Cadmus smiled. "You are _never_ a bother."

Laelia smiled back. "I hope so. Good-bye, husband." The screen went blank.

Cadmus walked over to the couch and lay down on it, staring up at the dark ceiling. Only a few hours ago, he'd been lamenting Garrus' career choice and now Garrus had done a complete 180. He was proud. He felt no pleasure that it had taken an assault on Laelia to awaken Garrus to the need for turians who sought justice day in and out. But he was glad Garrus had seen the truth just in time. He'd make a fine soldier or cop, whatever his drill sergeants decided. There was at least some brightness to come out of such a dark day for the Vakarian family.

* * *

Two hours later, Cadmus stomped up and down Presidium hallways, his footfalls pounding loudly. His earlier good mood had dissipated instantly the moment he'd been contacted by an old security friend. He was trying as best he could to control his anger, but it must have shown through as people he encountered along the way instantly parted for him. More than anything he was feeling betrayed—betrayed by a good friend and mentor.

When Cadmus reached the Executor's office, he didn't push a chime. He marched straight ahead when the door opened. He'd already decided if Decimus wasn't there he'd get the station to track him down. But his old chief was in the room, sitting at his desk, eyes intent on a computer screen. He looked up when Cadmus entered, not a hint of surprise disturbing his visage. In fact, he spoke evenly and knowingly.

"I thought you might show up."

Cadmus' mandibles tightened against his jaw as he approached Decimus' desk and flung a data pad across it. Decimus caught it deftly, glancing down at it, then gazing up at Cadmus.

"When were you going to tell me?" Cadmus ground out between clenched teeth.

Decimus sat up straight. "Have a seat."

"When?" Cadmus shot back, maintaining his stance.

Decimus sighed and slid the data pad back over to Cadmus who took it and glared down at it. Surveillance footage on Palaven hadn't been able to catch the identity of the driver of the speeder that had hit Laelia. The incident had taken place mostly off camera. However, the police had found an abandoned vehicle with indentations that indicated it had been the one in the hit and run. The vehicle had an ID number. That had been tracked down to a rental agency at the nearest spaceport. Surveillance from the agency only turned up a quick look at the back of a turian shrouded in a hood. The name the turian gave was Ceyx Charod. Fortunately, the clerk that had assigned the rental speeder to the turian had been able to give a description. He also possessed the turian's palm print—a requirement for renting speeders. The print had been traced.

"We didn't know he'd left Tridend," Decimus explained calmly, too calmly for Cadmus.

"_We?_"

"The Primarch, her staff and my family," Decimus explained straightforwardly.

"How long since he escaped?" Cadmus demanded to know.

Decimus kept his gaze steady on Cadmus. "Approximately three weeks."

"You're telling me," Cadmus' spoke haltingly, "That your brother, Aiolus Mehrkuri, has been out of prison for three weeks and you didn't have the decency to inform me?"

Decimus' ever hard eyes softened. "Sit down, Cadmus. That's an order."

Cadmus clenched his jaw, but sat down nonetheless, still too turian to ignore the order.

Decimus looked down at his hands for a moment, then across at Cadmus. "Forgive me."

Cadmus tilted his head. He hadn't expected Decimus to ask his forgiveness. He'd never thought he'd hear words like that proceed from his mouth.

"I should have told you. But I was instructed not to. The Primarch wanted this to be an internal matter only. She didn't want the galaxy to know we had failed to keep one of our own locked up."

Cadmus swallowed slowly, pushing his wrath down. It still lingered. "So instead you say nothing and my wife pays for it."

Decimus' mandibles clacked against his jaw. "If I had known he'd eluded capture on Tridend, I would have told you immediately. As it is, I read the report on your wife's incident this morning. I called the Primarch and informed her she could no longer count on my silence. I contacted Selyna and Nissa. They're both on Tuchanka right now. I was just going to call Kepel when you walked through the door."

"And me?"

"I was going to ask _you_ to come to my office. I knew you'd be like this. I remember how much you care for your wife."

Cadmus stared down Decimus. "You should have treated me better than this."

"Yes," Decimus agreed. "But we can't look back now. Aiolus is out there. No one has ever escaped from Zafur Halesia. The fact that he's endured this long is a testimony to his impregnable will. That's why he must be taken down."

"How?" Cadmus asked, sitting straighter in his chair, expressing his eagerness to be part of the operation.

"Not by you."

"Then who?"

Decimus sighed again and looked at Cadmus with determined eyes. "I'm resigning. I've been asked by the Primarch to lead a task force to bring Aiolus home. They're already headed to Palaven. I'm to join them. I leave today."

Cadmus let the information sink in. Decimus was leaving C-Sec, giving up his prime position, all to track down his brother and bring him back to justice. Even in his anger, Cadmus had to respect Decimus' decision. "I'll come with you."

"No," Decimus spoke firmly. "I won't have you giving up your C-Sec career for a _patak _like my brother. It would give him immense pleasure to know he'd forced you to pursue him all over the galaxy. That's probably one of the reasons he went after your wife. He knew his print would be identified. He wanted you to know. But, _I_ know him. He's going to find somewhere to hide out and he'll be ready for whoever finds him when they show up. That's going to be me and the task force. Not you or Paeon or Kepel or Selyna or Nissa. I'm _not_ involving my former team in this. You're staying here and if I have to make that an official order, I will."

Cadmus' mandibles flicked in and out as he struggled with Decimus' logic. Decimus' explanation made sense. The Tridend task force would be best for the job. Still, it had been his wife that had been assaulted. "My wife…"

"Revenge isn't your thing, Cadmus," Decimus interrupted. "I know how you treat humans—with objectivity. You haven't wasted time wanting to get them back. That's part of what makes you a good officer. I don't want to see you fall into hate. The fact Aiolus has attacked you personally shouldn't matter in your thinking. If you could stand outside yourself, what would you advise yourself?"

Cadmus raised a hand to his chin, thinking. He would tell someone else in his position to let the task force do the job it had been assigned and you do your own job. Let those specially assigned to the task do what they are called to do. They'll do it better than you could. Cadmus swallowed, eating his own lecture. "Keep me informed."

"I will." Decimus reached out and tapped a data pad. "I have more than one motive for wanting you to stay on the Citadel. It needs you. I've spent the last hour shuffling positions and making recommendations." Cadmus felt his omni-tool vibrate. He flicked it on. He'd received new orders. His eyes widened and he looked back at Decimus. "I actually put you in for Executor, but the Council refused. I think one of their Spectres gave you a bad report."

Cadmus assumed this must be Saren Arterius, the only Spectre he'd ever had contact with.

"So I did the next best thing. Got you Zakera. You'll be the head of the detective units. You'll be stuck behind a desk more, but you'll be able to spot crime easier and thus, stop it easier. Zakera needs your mind and skill."

Cadmus sat stunned. Head of Zakera's detective division. He knew years ago Decimus had said such a position might be in his future, but he hadn't taken it seriously at the time. Now he didn't know what to say. "So…the Executor…" he stammered out.

Decimus smiled. "Friend of yours, I believe. Venari Pallin. He came highly recommended. Good turian from his files."

"He is," Cadmus affirmed. He looked gratefully across at Decimus. "Thanks."

Decimus waved his hand. "You deserve it. Especially now. I know it's killing you not to go after Aiolus. Now, I have too much to accomplish before I leave for Palaven."

"Of course." Cadmus stood, but before he moved to the door, he held out his arm. Decimus stood slowly, then gripped Cadmus' wrist. "It's been my honor to serve with you."

Decimus nodded. "Of course, I return the compliment, but I'll do even better by you. Aiolus won't draw breath for long. I swear that on my father's name."

* * *

Cadmus walked into his precinct with determination in his step. He passed Gratus in the hallway.

"Never thought I'd see you come in late," Gratus needled, his tone edged with antagonism.

Cadmus flashed him a severe glance and Gratus closed his mouth, recognizing this wasn't the time to cause Cadmus any consternation or he'd find himself written up for insubordination. Cadmus continued on to his office. When the door opened, he walked quickly to his desk, sat down heavily and fiddled with his omni-tool, eventually putting his hand to the side of his head. In a few seconds, his son's voice spoke into his ear.

"Dad?"

"Garrus. How's your mother doing?"

"As good as can be expected." Cadmus noted a slight irritation in Garrus' voice, but he ignored it. This wasn't the time to hash out the distancing in their relationship.

"Good…Garrus, I need you to protect her."

For several seconds Garrus said nothing, then, "I will."

"I don't mean take care of her during her healing, though that's vital. I know who attacked her."

"Who?"

"Someone I helped convict before you were born."

"Who is he?" Garrus asked tensely.

"He was involved with a drug running cartel. A turian. Aiolus Mehrkuri. He was sentenced to a labor camp on Tridend, but recently escaped."

"He attacked mom to get back at you." Garrus seemed to be simply stating a fact, but Cadmus thought he heard an indictment. He held back a chastening reply.

"Most likely. Tridend has organized a task force to take him down and they are on the way to Palaven. But in the meantime I want to be sure your mother and Solana and _you_ are safe. I know your mother and sister will be staying at your grandfather's. I want you to go, too. I'll call your grandfather, let him know the situation."

"Okay."

"Garrus…This is what real life is all about. There are two kinds of people in this world: those who can control their impulses and those who delve into their base natures. The first have to make sure the second can't carry out their desires." Cadmus paused, giving Garrus a chance to respond, but no sound came through the comm. He wished he could see Garrus' face, read how he was taking his father's words. "I need you to be the first kind of turian. For your mother now, for your future, too. I've seen your skill. You have the makings of a fine officer."

Another long pause. Cadmus was about to finish the call when Garrus finally spoke. "I signed up for the Cohort Elitum. They accepted."

Once again, Garrus sounded dispassionate. If he was disappointed, he didn't hint at it. "It's an honorable choice," Cadmus commended.

"I've got to help mom. They're discharging her soon."

"I'm trusting you, Garrus. Make sure your mother and sister stay safe."

"They'll be safe." This time, clear conviction sounded in his son's words.

"I know."

"Bye, Dad." The comm went dead.

Cadmus took a deep breath. He _did_ trust Garrus, but he wouldn't be entirely relaxed until he knew Aiolus no longer troubled the galaxy. He also wished wistfully that he and his son weren't at odds. He hadn't wanted such a strained relationship with Garrus, but it had turned out that way. There was nothing he could do about that, not now. He could only hope that eventually his son came to see his father had spoken wisdom to him after all.

* * *

Author's Note: The hit and run incident is mentioned in the comic _A Bullet for Your Sins_. The comic has a discussion between Garrus and his mother in the hospital.


	24. Youth

Cadmus stared at his computer, facing down the e-mail on its screen that taunted him, daring him to do something about it. He carefully read it through again. Laelia had sent it, not aware of the effect it would have on her husband. Certainly, she only wanted him to share her pride. Cadmus was proud, but also profoundly concerned. The e-mail contained an assessment from the Cohort Elitum. It provided a summary of the Cohort's findings and recommendations for further training and placement. The findings were exemplary. Garrus, although once so intent on engineering as a career, had excelled in military exploits, just as Cadmus knew he would. It was the recommendation that bothered him. He reread the last paragraph of the report for the third time.

_The Cohort recommends that turian society and the galactic whole would benefit from the further training of Garrus Vakarian in preparation for possible entry into Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. If this post is refused, the Cohort will reassess the individual's skill set and recommend another course of action. The individual has one week to validate his assignment or request reassessment._

Special Tactics and Reconnaissance—Spectres. Garrus had been slated as a potential candidate. If he consented, he would receive further training that might ultimately lead to his establishment as a Council Spectre.

Cadmus closed his eyes momentarily and leaned back in his seat. A year in the Cohort Elitum and Garrus had distinguished himself, clearly a step above his peers. But Cadmus' last leave had coincided with Garrus', affording him ample opportunity to observe his son. Things had been cordial between them, if not chummy. He had a good son and yet…. Garrus may have been considered mature, but he was only eighteen—too young in Cadmus' estimation to demonstrate much wisdom about life. He had skill, but not years of experience from which to judge the universe accurately. Garrus had taken part in covert military actions, learned how to maintain his cool under pressure. Still, he lacked complete self-control. More than once he'd been cited for relying on his own initiative rather than following strict orders. Cadmus supposed Garrus' skill and the fact his disobediences had been trivial contributed to the fact that his report was still positive. In fact, his tendency to individualism probably contributed to his instructors' sensing Spectre in him.

Cadmus rubbed his eyelids with his first fingers. He feared what Garrus would become if he followed the path of a Spectre. The second he read the e-mail, his mind flashed back four years ago when he'd met Saren Arterius. Saren had thrown his weight around without care or thought. Power had molded his character into one of ruthless pragmatism—do whatever you can to get what you want and rules be damned. Saren was just one Spectre, but Cadmus had heard rumor of others that acted the same and Venari confirmed this. Cadmus suspected that most Spectres became so single-minded, so self-glorified that they couldn't evaluate themselves objectively. They lost themselves in their own solitary authority. Garrus had such passion for justice, but he didn't have the stamina yet to control it. Make him a Spectre, let him loose to bring justice as he saw fit and Cadmus knew he could very well copy Saren Arterius.

Cadmus opened his eyes. The e-mail on the screen nagged at him. He and Laelia had decided a year ago to stay out of Garrus' affairs. Let him choose his own future. But now everything in Cadmus urged him to step in and save his son before he lost himself. The problem was he could anticipate Garrus' response to such an action—resentment that his father would seek to determine his choices. Cadmus was afraid that to say something would only push Garrus into accepting a possible Spectre candidacy. And yet, to not say something was to let his son be led astray. Cadmus felt caught between a rock and a hard place. There would be no easy out.

"Captain?"

Cadmus put his hand to his ear, responding to the voice that had spoken in his comm. "Go ahead, Schleis."

"A Lieutenant Rawls would like to see you. He does not have an appointment."

Cadmus widened his eyes in surprise. John Rawls. He'd seen the human less than a handful of times since his promotion to head detective of Zakera. Truth be told, he spent so much time behind a desk now, he didn't get to hobnob like he used to. If he made it to the social gathering, it was at the most once every two weeks. Although he'd immediately accepted his current post when Decimus offered, he'd wondered if he'd actually like it. He knew accepting meant his time in the field would lessen dramatically. However, he'd hardly had time to think about missing anything. He was in constant demand and his schedule was always full. Even so, Cadmus found he enjoyed his new position. He'd always tried to connect details to the bigger picture. As head of the detective branch of Zakera, he could connect dots previously unknown to him. He tracked pattern in crime, revealing how one crime affected another, how criminals networked. He'd plied his mind to Zakera's puzzles and already in less than a year brought down a drug running operation, arrested an illegal weapons dealer and captured the instigators of a scamming plot. Being at the top in the Ward had its decided advantages.

Rawls…Why was the human officer seeking him out? They were simple acquaintances, though he held a high opinion of the human. Rawls, from all accounts, was a reliable co-worker. Even Venari noted that he was the most decent of the human officers on the station. The least was, of course, Eugene Harkin, who still hung on despite Venari's attempts to have him dismissed. The human ambassador was too shrewd to let Harkin be fired.

"Let him in," Cadmus commanded curtly.

"Yes, sir."

Cadmus folded his hands on top of his desk as he waited for the human to walk through his door. No human had yet been assigned to Zakera. Most were in the Presidium, a few in Shalta Ward. Cadmus, although harboring no hostility towards humans, felt glad he didn't have to deal with them as co-workers. It wasn't humans in and of themselves that bothered him; it was the trouble they caused in a precinct. Many turians still held a grudge from the Relay 314 Incident. Other races hated that humans had been granted so many privileges in such a short time. Human officers brought tension and bitterness into a precinct whether they meant to or not. Cadmus felt fortunate he didn't have to deal with the repercussions of human officers…yet.

Cadmus' door opened and John Rawls walked through. He wasn't clothed in C-Sec armor. He looked entirely casual in non-descript pants and a shirt. No wonder Schleis had been skeptical. For all his salarian receptionist knew, Rawls was a human pretending to be a Lieutenant in C-Sec. Cadmus rose from his seat and held out his hand, meeting Rawls' blue eyes. He suppressed a smile when Rawls gripped his wrist. Cadmus returned the gesture.

"Captain Vakarian. Thank you for taking the time to see me."

Cadmus motioned to the seat in front of his desk and Rawls sat. Cadmus settled back in his own chair. "I assume this isn't an official visit as you have neglected your uniform."

Rawls smiled nervously. "You're right, sir. I'm not here officially. I mean, I'm not on C-Sec business…not exactly."

Cadmus linked his talons together. "So why _are_ you here?"

"I have a favor to ask."

Cadmus stared at Rawls. A favor? Rawls spoke the phrase clandestinely and Cadmus' suspicions were immediately roused. "I'm sure you do not refer to something illegal."

"Oh, no, not illegal, just sensitive." Rawls seemed to speak truthfully and innocently.

"What is this favor then?"

"A friend of my family's back home, on Earth, is a politician. His son came out to space without his father's approval, but he's of age, so he couldn't stop him. I think his son hopped a freighter inbound."

Cadmus listened quietly. He would rather Rawls get to the point, but knew humans often began serious discussions with long preambles as if they didn't want to give away the punch line to a joke.

"You see, his son has always lived in his father's shadow. His mother died when he was little, three I think. So it's always been him and his dad and he's struggled most of his life to belong. He's smart, but socially awkward. He can't seem to find his place in the universe."

Cadmus tried not to breathe impatiently. He had cases he needed to attend to, people he needed to see. He didn't have time to listen to a sob story of some friend of Rawls' family.

Rawls paused to look Cadmus in the eye. "Anyway, he made it to the Citadel a month back I think and it hasn't gone well for him. He's out of his element. He shouldn't be here."

Cadmus spoke lightheartedly. "You want me to have him exiled?"

Rawls cracked a small smile. "Kind of."

"I have no authority to throw someone off the station."

"I don't want you to throw him off, just encourage him to leave."

Cadmus still wasn't quire sure what Rawls meant. "Do you want me to threaten him?"

"Maybe a little."

Cadmus pulled himself up in his chair. "I won't use my authority in that manner." He wouldn't be a Spectre like Saren and make intimidation his tool.

Rawls wrung his hands. "The situation calls for your authority. He was arrested last night here in Zakera."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed. "What did he do?"

"This is why I came to you," Rawls explained, continuing to wring his hands. "I know you're fair. I remember how you treated that human years ago, Zachary Carter. You didn't blow him off. You followed the case all the way and rescued those tortured humans. Maybe you didn't know it, but that day humans on the station saw in you a turian advocate they didn't think they had. Even Harkin was forced to grumble you _might_ be useful to humanity."

Cadmus kept his surprise in check, at least off his face. _He_ was an advocate for humans? He hardly interacted with humans, rarely even thought about them. He didn't know how to feel about his apparent status among Citadel humans.

"I knew you'd listen to me and you were my best bet to get help."

"What did he do?" Cadmus repeated. Before he allowed Rawls to go any farther, he had to establish the criminal actions of this young man Rawls was so intent on saving.

"He wants to show his father he can do something, champion humanity way out here I guess. I wasn't able to get the arrest report, but I asked some witnesses what happened." Rawls stopped and bit his lip, then continued. "Just, don't take it the wrong way. There's still some bad blood between humans and turians, you and I both know that."

Cadmus clenched his jaw, but nodded.

"He picked a fight with some turians. I think they were saying some disparaging things about humans and he decided to stand up to them, but he threw the first punch and it just went from bad to worse. Other humans got involved, too."

Ah yes, Cadmus had read the report that morning. A fight in the main hub. Several arrests. He hadn't thought much of it. It was a paltry case, little investigation needed. It could easily be handled by the relevant precinct.

"He called you to come to his rescue," Cadmus stated.

"No," Rawls clarified. "He didn't. I saw a bulletin. His name was on it. Sir, he's naïve. He doesn't know what he's doing."

"So what do you propose?"

Rawls took a long breath. "I'd like to ask you to talk to him."

Cadmus blinked his eyes. Talk to him? He could hardly talk to his own son. "I fail to see how that would help matters."

Rawls eyed him directly. "He may be young, but he does respect authority. I think if the head detective of Zakera came to see him, put the fear of God into him, it just might send him back where he belongs—at home."

"Why don't _you_ talk to him?" Cadmus inquired. "You're human. I doubt a whelp that attacks turians would receive advice _from_ a turian."

Rawls smiled wryly. "It's an interesting thing about human youth. They'll listen to anyone _but_ they're own elders. They think they know everything. I'd be nothing but a whining adult to him. But a formidable turian who holds his fate in his hands…that would make a difference to him. I think you could change his course, pull him off the road to destruction."

Cadmus considered silently. It wasn't just human youth who ran to the future pell-mell. Turian youth often did it, too. Garrus for certain, anyway. But Garrus wouldn't have been in the position of this young human. Cadmus counted himself lucky for this fact.

"I know it's not a common request. But I wouldn't make it if I didn't think you really could help," Rawls implored. "I know turians are more apt to just let the jail time speak for itself, but I thought you might care about taking another criminal off the streets before he became one."

Cadmus' mandibles stretched in and out slowly. Rawls had read him well. If this young man could be turned around now, he would be less trouble later, maybe no trouble at all. What would it hurt to show him where these impulsive actions could take him? "Send me his information. I'll pull up his file and look it over. If I can help, I will."

Rawls stood. "Thank you so much, sir. That's all I ask. Just let me know the outcome, if any."

Cadmus stood as well. "Of course." He held out his hand and as Rawls reached out he enclosed his fingers around his hand and shook it. Rawls smiled and nodded, leaving the room.

Cadmus sat back at his desk, looking over at his computer. The e-mail about Garrus dominated the screen. He quickly shut it down, moving his mind to important cases. He'd have to deal with it, but not now.

Fifteen minutes later a new e-mail popped up in Cadmus' in-box, this one from Lieutenant Rawls. Rawls had sent along the entry application of his family friend's son. There wasn't much to go on really. A description of the young man—5' 11", light hair, blue eyes. Age: 25. Education: B.S. in Applied Technology from a university on Earth. Cadmus remembered Rawls had said he was smart. Reason for Entry to the Citadel: Vacation and possible work. He'd been granted a stay of six months.

Cadmus reached over to the computer, pulling up the arrest report from the night before. The report detailed the event pretty much as Rawls had described. Cadmus also discovered a couple previous complaints had been lodged against the young man in question. One from a volus who claimed the young man had walked up and down in front of his establishment warning patrons that the volus was cheating them. The other was from a salarian doctor whom the young man had accused of poisoning human patients. The incidents had been looked into and the young man's accusations found to be baseless. Cadmus shook his head. This young human was utterly paranoid and apparently had a savior complex as well. He clearly thought he was doing humanity good out here. What he was doing was making humanity's reputation worse. Last night a fight. What was next?

Cadmus leaned back in his chair. Well, he could put a stop to it. He'd just have to march down to the cells and do what he did best—be himself. He'd come in with all his weight of authority and scare the living daylights out of this young man. It wouldn't take much, he assumed, to put this Conrad Verner in his place.

* * *

Cadmus paced the interview room, waiting for Verner to be brought in. He had rehearsed his speech several times. He'd let this young man know exactly where he stood and how he could get out. When the door opened, he turned, all the ferocity he could muster seething from his eyes as he took in Conrad Verner. Humans had been on the Citadel long enough now that he could easily judge their age. Even without the file, he would have known Verner was young. He had a smooth face, no beard. Cadmus knew human males often grew beards; he'd thought it a strange custom, assuming having tufts of fur on one's chin would get in the way of eating. As the turian enforcement officer commanded Verner to sit and locked his wrists onto the table, Cadmus assessed his dress. He wore stylish clothing, something Cadmus would have seen on a human of importance. He supposed Verner's politician father still supported him, or at least, still clothed him. The officer left and Cadmus stalked over to the table, sliding into a seat across from the human. Verner's eyes darted around nervously.

"I'm Detective Captain Cadmus Vakarian," Cadmus introduced himself. "I run Zakera's detective units."

Verner said nothing, but he swallowed and his eyes blinked rapidly.

Cadmus flashed on his omni-tool. "I've been looking over your file. You're trouble, Mr. Verner. Two complaints and an arrest in a month." Cadmus peered solemnly across at the young man. "We don't let trouble makers stay on this station."

Verner found his voice. "I…I can explain…I can…but…but…"

"But what? I don't like weaklings that stammer."

"But…you wouldn't understand."

"You'd better explain or this night will be your last on the Citadel."

Verner shook his head and then leaned down to put his forehead in his hands. "I can't go home. I just can't."

Cadmus gazed down on the blonde bowed head. He could hardly believe this human had taken on a group of turians. He seemed a scared child, not a man at all. "You _can_ go home. I can make that happen."

"No!" Verner jerked his head up. "No. I'm not ready. Humanity needs me. You don't understand. You're turian."

"I understand that you've come here to cause trouble."

"No, I just…people need help here. I can help them."

"Justice, Mr. Verner, will not come from you for humanity. Justice on this station comes from C-Sec, _not_ you."

"C-Sec doesn't see what I see. It misses the important stuff."

"C-Sec has been protecting this station for over a thousand years. It did fine without you and will continue without you. You have a problem, you tell C-Sec and let us handle it. Do you understand?"

Verner opened his mouth like he wanted to protest, but then quickly shut it.

"Let me be clear. You are doing nothing on this station but giving humanity a bad name. You've accused innocents and they in turn have a foul taste in their mouths for humans. If you want to do right by your race, go home." Cadmus glanced back at his omni-tool. "I noticed you have a degree in Applied Technology. According to this, you graduated with a 4.0. You're intelligent and skilled. You're wasting yourself out here. Go home."

The young man bowed his head and muttered under his breath. Cadmus caught snatches of it. "Dad…just what he'd want…never…"

"You have something to say, then look at me and say it."

Verner looked up and his face bore marks of defeat. "I don't have anything to say."

"I want your guarantee that after you have served your two days in the cells, you're leaving this station."

Verner stared at Cadmus, his forehead creased in indecision.

"If you do not leave, I promise I will watch your every step. You are on my radar, Mr. Verner. No one who shows up on my screen ever gets off while on station."

Verner's face fell and Cadmus saw resolution. His shoulders slumped. "Okay. I'll leave."

"And go home."

Verner twisted his lips. "I don't know."

"Do something worthwhile with your life," Cadmus advised. "Use your degree. You'll help your people better that way than any other way."

"Maybe."

"Think about it," Cadmus encouraged. He slowly stood. As he looked on the defeated young man, he felt a pang of sympathy. He wasn't a human meant to be out here, just as Rawls said. He should stay home and let his family coddle him. "The universe is too big for one man, Mr. Verner. Play the part fate has dealt you and life will go easier."

Verner didn't respond to Cadmus' statement, but he did ask a question. "Will this arrest stay on my record?"

"For a time. It's a small charge. It won't inhibit you from coming back to the Citadel. But I advise you not to do so. This isn't the place for young humans trying to play hero." Cadmus walked to the interview room door and exited. He nodded to the enforcement officer, who went inside to take Verner back to his cell.

Cadmus tapped away on his tool as he walked down the hall and out into Zakera, sending a message to Rawls. He'd talked to Conrad Verner. If his intervention had made any difference, they'd know in a couple days. If Verner left the station, then he'd listened. If he didn't, well, then, he'd keep the young man in his sights and carry out harsher measures as needed.

* * *

Cadmus stayed late in his office. Carving time out of his schedule to confront Conrad Verner meant a longer day of work. He'd caught up, meeting with various detective chiefs, answering inquiring e-mails and going over successfully concluded cases. Right before he left for the day, a new case popped up—two elcor had gone missing. Elcor were so large, he found it almost impossible any of them could manage to get lost. The precinct had a team on the case, interviewing possible witnesses and trying to track them down. He sent the head of the team a request to keep him apprised of the situation overnight.

As he began to shut down his computer, Cadmus paused. In the slew of e-mails he'd received, only one had gone unanswered—Garrus' career report. Garrus becoming a Spectre was out of the question. His son couldn't handle that amount of power, not yet, maybe not ever. He needed rules and regulations to rein him in and provide structure for justice. Did Garrus understand himself well enough to realize this and forgo the recommendation? _Most likely not_.

Cadmus clicked on his tool, raised his hand to it, then lowered it. He knew what needed to be done, but his courage faltered. He had no desire to push Garrus farther away, yet recognized he had to act as a father, had to set his child on the correct course even if the way of doing so was bitter.

Cadmus sucked in a long breath. _If you can talk to an erring human stranger, you can talk to your son_, he chided himself. Cadmus tapped quickly on his tool, then stopped, shutting it down. No. Audio only was a coward's way out. He'd contact his son face to face. He leaned over and tapped on his computer, sending the call through. As he waited, he adjusted himself in his seat, trying to appear casual.

In a moment, Laelia's face appeared. "Cadmus! This is a surprise."

"I know it's not the usual time to call, but I wanted to check on my family."

"We're well. Sol's still in her books. I think she's going to end up being a teacher."

Cadmus didn't respond. A teacher was a respectable position, but not prestigious. He bit his tongue. No need to go down that path for the moment.

"Any word on Aiolus Mehrkuri?"

Cadmus shook his head. "You'd think they'd have him in hand after ten months. It worries me. He's too efficient."

"At least he's not on Palaven anymore."

"That we know of."

"Cadmus, don't worry so much. If he'd come back this way I'm sure Decimus would tell you."

Decimus would, Cadmus knew. But even his old boss wasn't infallible. He'd been on his brother's heels for the better part of a year and still no arrest. At least the fact that Decimus was after him seemed to have kept Aiolus out of the turian system. Last report he'd been seen in the Skyllian Verge.

"Did you read the e-mail about Garrus?"

"Yes." Cadmus worked to keep the concern off his face. Starting an argument with Laelia was not conducive to his current goal.

"It's a high honor."

"I would like to speak to Garrus," Cadmus said as nonchalantly as he could.

"I'll tell him. Just a moment."

Cadmus waited, unconsciously tapping his foot on the floor. In less than a minute, Garrus appeared on-screen. Cadmus was struck by how old and yet, how young he looked. His blue tattoos, applied at the age of fifteen, automatically increased the age of his face. His serious blue-gray eyes glistened with experience. And yet, there was a fire in him that hadn't yet been tamed. Something below the surface that worried Cadmus.

"Dad."

"Garrus. I would like to talk to you…privately."

Garrus glanced back over his shoulder. "I'm alone. Mom's with Sol."

"I read your report from the Cohort Elitum. It's commendable."

Garrus nodded his acceptance of the compliment.

"You have every reason to be proud of your accomplishments."

Garrus suddenly breathed out harshly. "I know you, dad. There's a 'but' coming."

Cadmus smiled wryly. Indeed. "Yes."

"What is it?"

"I advise you to refuse the assignment to Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."

Garrus, to Cadmus' surprise, didn't lose his temper. He simply asked, "Why? It's a top honor. I thought it would please you."

"The recommendation does honor you, but this is not a career for you."

"I couldn't get any higher."

"I know." Cadmus linked his talons in and out. "But being a Spectre carries dangers."

"I've faced dangers you don't even know about in the Cohort," Garrus explained, the ghost of a smile playing around his mouth. Cadmus didn't doubt the truthfulness of the statement.

"It's not physical danger I mean. There is the danger of losing yourself in your own power. Spectres are unbound by law. They can easily become drunk with their own glorification, their own sense of justice. They trample others if it pleases them."

"A good Spectre can accomplish a lot."

Cadmus stared into his son's eyes. There was so much distance between them in both time and space. "Can you avoid the pitfalls? Do you trust yourself, Garrus?"

Garrus carefully scratched his nose. "Do you trust me?"

Cadmus tightened his mandibles. "It's not a matter of _my_ trust. You know your character. You care about justice, good. You have passion, good. But there is a certain amount of impatience and rashness about you. Is that Spectre material? What do you think?"

"I know what you're trying to tell me, dad. I got it. Can we talk about something else now?"

Cadmus looked into his son's pleading eyes and relented, letting the matter rest between them. He'd said his piece. What came of it was anyone's guess.

* * *

Cadmus slept fitfully. Dreams of Garrus intruded on his usually peaceful nights. At one point, waking in frustration, he'd lamented the fact he'd ever had children at all. It was one thing to take care of yourself and another to be responsible for lives placed in your care. It caused a tremendous load of accountability. He found himself thinking about Decimus' mother, the look of anger and shame on her face when Aiolus had been sentenced. And Aiolus was still causing her shame, roaming the galaxy with a heart full of revenge. He didn't doubt the load of guilt she must carry as he imagined what it would be like to walk in her shoes, to wonder if your children turned out poorly because you failed to raise them correctly.

Finally, at 0500, Cadmus rose, showered and dressed for another day at the office. He turned on his tool, skimming the e-mails that had come through. The elcor had been found overnight. Both were well. According to the report, they were young and newly on station. They'd been hoodwinked by a sly bartender offering them "special spices" that would increase the quality of their food. In other words, they'd been drugged and wandered deliriously into one of the Citadel laundry stations. They'd been found twisted up in various sheets and articles of clothing, no worse for the wear except for bad headaches and deep embarrassment. Cadmus chuckled to himself, imagining the sight and deep monotone elcor voices proclaiming: "With profound embarrassment: I apologize for my naïveté and lassitude." They were young, huh? Apparently, lack of foresight in youth wasn't confined to any one race in the galaxy.

Cadmus stopped chuckling when he saw an e-mail from Laelia. His heart sank. He opened it, reading what he'd expected. Garrus had refused the assignment to Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. Laelia didn't understand why and assumed Cadmus had something to do with it. Cadmus tapped out a short reply, an explanation and an assertion that he'd given his advice, but left the choice up to their son.

As Cadmus marched to Zakera as he'd done most of his life, he felt a burden lifted. His son had made the right choice when it counted. He'd shown maturity and an understanding of his own limitations. When he entered his office and sat down, a few more e-mails had come in, one of them from Lieutenant Rawls. It was a short thank you. Verner had been released early and left the station, headed back to Earth. Cadmus smiled to himself. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this parenting thing after all.

* * *

Author's Note: Thought I'd thank everyone who's been following Cadmus' story for hanging in there! Four more chapters until we get to ME1. Next time, Garrus enters C-Sec.


	25. Autonomy

"So, how does it feel to be the father of a C-Sec rookie?" Viator smiled, eyes twinkling across at Cadmus, laughter beneath the surface of his question.

Cadmus, in truth bursting with pride, kept his full joy underwraps. "Of course, I am proud."

Viator guffawed. "Relax, Cadmus. It doesn't hurt to show a little emotion, especially when your son has earned his post with such acclaim."

Cadmus recalled how much Viator bragged on Kemi. Now ten, she continued to excel musically. Her people were lauding her skill. Cadmus knew how much Viator wanted to meet her in person when she turned twelve. Two more years and he would get to do so—perhaps. Cadmus wondered if her people wouldn't want to keep her to themselves.

Cadmus opened his mouth and spread his mandibles widely in a smile. "I _am_ proud," he repeated. "Garrus has done better than I anticipated."

"He's excelled!" Viator exclaimed. "When he got assigned here, there were whispers of how fortunate C-Sec was to get him. Really, with all he's accomplished, I kind of thought the Council would claim him for themselves, make him a Spectre."

Cadmus held his peace. He'd never mentioned Garrus' identification as a possible Spectre candidiate to Viator. No need to bring it up now. Viator wouldn't understand. Viator didn't hold the same opinion as himself and Venari. He was too enamored of the Spectres to ascertain their faults. "He's C-Sec material," Cadmus said instead.

"No doubt," Viator commented. "Just like his father." He smiled knowingly at Cadmus, picking up his glass and consuming its contents.

Cadmus fingered his own glass, still containing a non-alcoholic turian drink. How long had it been since he'd last tasted alcohol? It had to be over twenty years. He curiously wondred for a moment what would happen now if he did drink it. Would his system handle it? It didn't matter. His vow to Laelia so very long ago had been final—Cadmus Vakarian didn't break his promises. Personally, he'd come to see the value in choosing to be a teetotaler. He was always sharp and in command of his thoughts. He didn't need the soothing dullness to cover his problems or stresses anymore. He could manage his life without chemical indulgence.

"Thinking about your family?"

Cadmus looked up at Viator. "In a way."

"It will be good to see them again. Sol's what? Eighteen? I haven't seen her in three years. What's she up to?"

Cadmus glanced over the balcony, looking down into one of the Presidium lakes. He and Viator had chosen to meet up after work at a small bar in the Presidium. Cadmus enjoyed being in the center of the station. It was a breath of fresh air from the enclosed office of Zakera he usually frequented. "Still studying. She wants to travel turian space, learn all she can, then teach." Cadmus took a sip of his drink. Solana's time in basic training had been far less prestigious than Garrus', but she didn't seem to care. She was still stubborn, going her own way no matter what anyone told her. She didn't want a life in the army or navy; she'd chosen education. It fit her personality, Cadmus knew, but it would have been nice to have two children distinguishing themselves in security careers. Ah well. Garrus had come his way. Sol could do as she liked.

"Looking forward to seeing Laelia?"

"Yes," Cadmus returned stoically, but his heart beat faster at her name. If there was one regret he'd had with his promotion, it had been the lack of his wife. Leave with her was too infrequent. She hadn't been back to the Citadel in years, ever since her accident. She had healed, but there were days her arm or leg bothered her. Cadmus had to swallow his anger every time she mentioned any pain. He wanted nothing more than to wring Aiolus Mehrkuri's neck, but he couldn't, because Decimus' brother was still elusive.

Every once in a while, Decimus checked in with him. Aiolus had become Decimus' obsession. So intent was his search that mild rumor made the rounds in C-Sec that the former Exectuor had become a crazed madman, seeking violent revenge against his own brother. It was ridiculous talk, of course. Decimus was as sane as ever, his passion simply an expression of his frustration as Aiolus continued to slip away from him. Cadmus also knew that Decimus had caught up with Aiolus at one point on Omega. There had been a fight between the task force and Aiolus' crew. Aiolus had gathered other disgruntled turians to his side. He was now a wretched gang leader. They'd managed to fight off the task force and get away in a ship. Decimus had been livid and even called Cadmus to pour out his anger. Cadmus hadn't told his former mentor, but he had begun to doubt Decimus' ability to ever bring Aiolus down. It seemed Aiolus had learned much in his time in Zafur Halesia. He'd been mentored by the worst criminals on Tridend in his time in the penal mine. He'd learned skills of evasion and criminality he hadn't possessed previously. The only good thing about him becoming a gang leader was the more turians he had with him, the harder it was to hide them. They were notorious in turian space, on the Hierarchy's most wanted list. If they'd shown their faces, they would have been caught in an instant. At least that kept Aiolus far away from Laelia.

Actually, Cadmus had suggested to Laelia that now that their children were grown, it wouldn't be a bad idea for her to spend more time on the Citadel, perhaps make it home again. Laelia hadn't been directly opposed to the idea, but did let him know that her life was Palaven. She'd become entrenched on her home planet, her friends and family there, her daughter still living there. She wasn't ready to leave entirely, not yet. But she did agree to visit the station more often. Cadmus understood. He couldn't blame her. He had been the one to insist she live on Palaven for the sake of their children. She had every right to refuse his suggestion. Still, he ached to have her with him more often. He was glad that since Garrus was moving to the Citadel, she'd seen fit to visit with Solana in tow on a short sabbatical from her studies.

"What about Leea?" Cadmus asked his cousin.

Viator grinned. "She'll be here tomorrow evening. I guess it's like a family reunion, isn't it?"

"We'll have you over," Cadmus insisted.

"Wouldn't miss it," Viator returned.

* * *

When Cadmus arrived home next evening, his usually peaceful abode had turned into a cacophony of noise; at least, that's how it felt. Really, it was simply the chatting of a family that hadn't been together in a long time, but having lived in the apartment alone most of his life, Cadmus felt assaulted by the noise. It took him some time to get back into the rhythm of his family—he was on the outside looking in. Laelia, Garrus and Solana talked and acted like a well-oiled machine. Years of being together had led to an intimacy Cadmus didn't share.

Cadmus, of course, didn't think this deeply about it. He only noticed something off in his emotions, but he brushed it away. It had been a long day and he was tired, nothing more. When he walked in the door, the first thing he heard was a debate in the living room. Solana was standing with her hands on her hips, lecturing an audience composed of Garrus, Viator and Leea. She was so engrossed in her own speech, as was the audience, that no one noticed Cadmus enter. Cadmus stood silently, marveling at the female turian now gesticulating with her hands, emphasizing her point. Where had the time gone? Solana was dressed in a fashionable short, figure hugging, teal dress. Her eyes brimmed with maturity and intellect. Cadmus realized that with all his concern over Garrus, he'd let Solana grow without his knowledge. She was a young adult now for certain, no longer his little daughter.

"The Unfication War would never have happened without the Imbex clan," Solana proclaimed. "If they hadn't forced the Coalition, the other clans would have peitioned for reparations and the hostilities would have faded. The Macedyn letter is complete proof."

"See what I mean?" Garrus said, directing his rhetorical question to Viator. "She's like this all the time, analyzing this and that. It's like bandying with a squawking jesep: its size belies its sharpened claws."

"You're just upset because I'm right," Solana argued, her hands now back on her hips as she glared down on her brother.

Garrus looked up at her, a smile playing about his mouth. "You forgot Primarch Fulcrosia's speech. It instigated the whole war. Every history book says so."

"You _know_ that speech wasn't even heard by most of the Coalition until three months after the intial conflict! And the history books never say any such thing! They just note that the speech was an accelerant to the…" Solana came to a halt when Garrus exploded in laughter. Viator himself tried not to laugh, his hand up to his mouth. Leea's mask emited a hissing sound of suppressed giggles.

"Ha ha…" Solana intoned angrily. "You only said that to bait me."

Garrus' laughter decended into a chuckle. "Sorry, Sol. It's just too easy. You don't need to be mad." Solana sat down in an easy chair with a huff. Garrus raised a hand to her, indicating goodwill. "For what it's worth, I agree with you. All the evidence points to the guilt of the Imbex clan."

"I don't know…" Viator spoke, but Leea squeezed his arm in warning.

Garrus smiled. "Don't go there. Just please, don't."

"Cadmus!" The new voice that had spoken drew everyone's attention to the apartment door. There were exclamations of "Dad" from Garrus and Solana, "Welcome, Cadmus" from Viator, but Cadmus had his eyes on the owner of the soft voice, his wife, Laelia Soranus. She stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing a fetching blue and red suit. She was still slender, still tall for a female, still taking his breath away every time he saw her. He didn't know why, but as their eyes locked and she smiled subtly, he felt something momentous afoot, that he needed to take advantage of his time with her. However, now that his presence was known, his attention was drawn from her as he was inundated by the occupants of the living room.

"Come join us!" Viator called out. "Your daughter is impressing us with her historical wisdom."

"So I heard," Cadmus said, eyeing Solana and nodding to her. She walked up to him and held out both hands. He took them, staring into dark blue eyes that held intense depth and insight.

"Hello, father," she said squeezing his wrists, her grip strong. The way she spoke, Cadmus heard something more than a simple greeting in her words. What, he wasn't sure.

"Dad," Garrus greeted coming up beside his sister. Cadmus reached out and gripped wrists with his son once Solana had disengaged her hold.

"Ready to work?" Cadmus asked.

Garrus bobbed his head.

"When do you see Executor Pallin?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Good. Come by my office when you can tomorrow."

"I will."

"Well, now that we've welcomed my husband back into his own apartment, let's eat some dinner," Laelia declared.

Everyone moved towards the kitchen, but Laelia hung back. As Cadmus reached her, he put a hand on her shoulder. "It's good to have you here."

Laelia stared into his eyes. "It's been so long since I've been on station and nothing's changed."

"Rarely does," Cadmus commented as he and his wife moved to eat with the rest of their family. It had been five years since his talk with Garrus regarding his Spectre candidacy and the Citadel had operated in perpetual uniformity. Same aliens, same squabbles, same puzzles-and Cadmus liked it that way.

* * *

Dinner was an enjoyable affair. Cadmus said little, relishing the warm feelings of familiar company. Viator and Leea spent most of the time talking about Kemi. Leea complained that Viator's impatience was pronounced to the point of annoyance now that meeting her in person was so close, but the way she stated this fact made it clear she loved Viator all the more for his passion for their "daughter." As Viator and Leea talked, Cadmus observed his own children's empathy. Solana's face exhibited pure understanding and Garrus encouraged Viator over the fact that two years was little in the grand scheme of things. Cadmus found it ironic that his children accepted Leea and Kemi with such ease. He had gotten used to Viator's wife, even used to Kemi as Viator's unseen daughter, but his feelings continued to be resistant to the benefit of turians and quarians becoming so entwined. He assumed that his children had no such qualms as they had known Leea most of their lives. Perhaps their experience with Leea had led them to regard quarians with unequivocal positivity. Leea _was_ a good female, Cadmus knew that. He reflected briefly that perhaps the most good that had come from Viator marrying Leea was his own children learning to treat aliens as individuals rather than falling back on racial generalities. He recognized that in some ways his feelings remained tinted by turian biases, no matter that his actions were always respectful and fair.

For her part, Solana continued to discuss history when appropriate and her ongoing studies. She had passed through hands-on military training and had taken up an apprenticeship, being mentored by various turian scholars in the fields of history and literature. She declared she passionately _loved_ the Palaven historical archives to which Garrus snorted and Solana scowled at him. Cadmus would have thought the sibling interaction nothing but a brother teasing his sister, but Solana's harsh gaze and the rapdity with which Garrus quieted implied more. Unsaid words passed between them. Cadmus refrained from inquiring, the problem an issue for his children to handle amongst themselves.

Laelia kept as quiet as Cadmus, talking rarely, interjecting short replies here and there. He caught her eye several times during the meal and was met by coyish blinking. Even though he was enjoying himself, Cadmus found that he wanted the meal to end so he could interact with his wife alone. Finally, Viator and Leea left with hearty farewells. Solana asked if she could take a walk for a time and left. Garrus declared an early bedtime for himself. He wanted to be ready for his first day on the job.

Cadmus turned to his wife after Garrus closed his bedroom door. She moved slowly, headed to the kitchen. He came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll clean up."

Laelia halted and raised her own hand to lay it on Cadmus'. "I can do it."

"You deserve a break. Let me."

"Alright," Laelia relented, removing her hand and making her way to their bedroom.

Cadmus strode into the kitchen and cleaned up as quickly as he could. When he finished and entered their bedroom, he abprutly sucked in a breath. Laelia lay stretched out on the bed reading her data pad. This was unremarkable. His reaction had been a response to the fact that his slender, good-figured wife had donned a long, translucent coral negligee that revealed all her feminine charms. He coughed and she turned to look at him.

"New nightgown?" he questioned, moving to the closet to disrobe, his blood pounding through his veins.

"Like it?" she asked in her tender, yet controlled voice.

Cadmus slipped on a pair of sleep pants and turned to her. "Very much."

Laelia smiled widely, set the data pad on a nigthside stand and glanced down at herself. "I bought it on a whim…though knowing I was coming here may have encouraged it."

Cadmus slipped into bed next to her. He turned on his side and placed a hand on her mandible, sliding his fingers down it. "It's been too long since you've been here."

Laelia raised her mandible in and out, appreciating his touch. She set her hand against his chest. "Time has passed so quickly for us, hasn't it? Where has the time gone, Cadmus? Garrus in C-Sec, Solana en…" She cut off and paused. "The point is, they've grown too fast."

Cadmus lowered his hand. "Solana what?"

Laelia stared him straight in the face, the way she always did when she meant him to take her next words to heart. "It's not my place to tell you. She has to do that. She will. She's just appropriating the bravery to do so."

Cadmus flexed his mandibles, but didn't draw away. "Why is she afraid?"

"Cadmus, I respect her desire to tell you herself. I will not be hinting at anything. Let's just forget about it for the night. You're right. It's been far too long that I've been here, that I've been in your arms here like this. Let's not spoil it."

Cadmus, so used to compartmentalizing his mind into separate boxes for work, marriage and children, nodded. He filed away the fact that Solana was reluctant to tell him something and turned his attention entirely to his wife.

* * *

The next day for Cadmus passed by like always—Ward wide meeting of all the detective chiefs, individual meetings for troublesome cases, filing of documents, reviewing e-mails and notes on various cases, calling in arrests and giving advice. He felt revitalized. He always enjoyed the job, but today he was invigorated, his energy electric. He knew it most likely had to do with last night and his time with Laelia. It wasn't just their physical intimacy—he always felt more balanced when she was near him.

Or perhaps it was more than Laelia. Perhaps it was also the fact that today his son began his work as a C-Sec officer. He'd always hoped for something like this, father and son detectives taking down crime side by side, or at least on the same station. He'd be able to help Garrus, give him advice, guide his steps as needed.

About midday, Schleis' voice spoke in his comm. "Captain, your son is here."

"Send him in," Cadmus answered eagerly, shutting down the file he had been working on. Garrus entered, marching with measured steps and sat down in the chair in front of his father's desk. Cadmus noticed a bit of defeat in his disposition. What had Venari said to him?

"You have your assignment?" Cadmus asked.

Garrus nodded in confirmation.

"Where?"

"Here. Zakera."

"Zakera?" Cadmus asked, both surprise and pleasure in his voice.

"The Executor said he didn't want to waste my natural talent on lesser posts. He said my resume was exemplary."

"It is," Cadmus affirmed. A stint in the Cohort Elitum, a recommendation to C-Sec and five years training in the best of Palaven's precincts had made Garrus an investigator any Executor would have snapped up in an instant.

"I'm in the 2nd precinct."

"Ah…You have a good chief: Jovaen Pallus. He's a little hesitant at times, but skilled and capable."

Garrus nodded again, then gazed around his father's office. Cadmus sensed his tension.

"It's a good assignment," Cadmus encouraged.

"I know," Garrus agreed, his attention back on his father.

"Is everything alright, son?" Cadmus asked, deciding to be direct.

"It's fine."

Cadmus stared Garrus down, implying that both of them knew Garrus was keeping some issue to himself. Garrus sighed and raised his hand, rubbing his neck.

"Don't take this the wrong way, dad, but I want to prove myself here without your help. I thought they'd put me in a different Ward."

Cadmus pushed back in his seat. He was far from insulted; he was actually quite pleased. It was the same thing he would have wanted at his own son's age. He wouldn't have wanted his father to overshadow his career. He'd want to stand on his own two feet.

Cadmus smiled slightly. "If it makes you feel any better, I won't be giving you any special treatment. I'll expect the same standards from you as anyone else on the force."

Garrus actually smiled a little. "I wouldn't expect _you_ to do any different."

"Garrus, I won't interfere. This is _your_ post, _you_ earned it. You'll rise and fall on your own merits."

Garrus nodded. "Okay."

"Where will you stay?" Cadmus asked, switching gears to pull them away from such an uncomfortable subject.

"I'm going to look for somewhere in Zakera."

"Most turians live in Bachjret," Cadmus pointed out.

"I'd like to live among the people I'm going to protect."

Cadmus' heart about burst open with pride. It was a sensible decision. Garrus, who had lived only on Palaven and had little experience with the aliens of the galaxy needed to experience them first hand. What better way to do so than live among them?

"It's a good idea. I can talk to some landlords near the 2nd…" Cadmus' voice faded. Garrus was staring at him. Cadmus laughed. "On second thought, you do it."

Garrus laughed shortly deep in his throat. "Thanks."

"When do you go on duty?"

"Tonight. Night shift."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed. Detectives had never been on night shifts until Venari became Executor. He'd made the change, insisting that crime didn't wait to be investigated until day cycles. "Well, then, the Exectuor isn't treating you as the coddled son of Dective Captain Cadmus Vakarian is he? Night shift is the rookie shift."

"I thought there would be more crime at night?"

"There is," Cadmus said, mandibles flapping. "It's a rite of passage through fire."

Garrus pulled himself up into his seat. "Bring it on."

Cadmus laughed heartily. "You're a Vakarian, through and through."

Garrus also laughed. Cadmus smiled. The station he loved had just gotten even better.

* * *

Later in the evening, Cadmus found himself in the apartment alone with Solana. Laelia had met a friend and they had gone shopping, picking up some things Laelia could only find on station. Garrus was nowhere to be seen, ostensibly in Zakera scoping it out before his first shift began. Cadmus sat in the living room, tapping on his tool. Every so often he glanced up at Solana on the couch, her eyes on her data pad. A couple times he caught her looking at him when he glanced up. She averted her eyes abruptly each time.

Cadmus soon found he couldn't keep his mind on his work e-mail. Everything had been squared away with Garrus and now he wanted all to be resovled with his daughter. She hadn't spoken a word even though Laelia had given her ample opportunity to brooch whatever subject she needed to bring to him. How long did he have to wait for her to open her mouth? Solana was usually hard to keep quiet, her passion and stubbornness like hurricane winds you couldn't hold back no matter how hard you tried. This fear to speak wasn't like her. He didn't know what that forbode and it bothered him.

Finally, Cadmus shut down his tool and looked across at Solana. "Let's walk," he said, his voice more commanding than suggesting.

Solana snapped her head up, indecision in her eyes for a moment, but finally surrendering. "Sure." She stood and followed her father out of the apartment. They rode the elevator then walked side by side into the beautiful garden paths.

Cadmus pointed to a statue of a turian standing severely straight. "Do you know who that is?"

Solana guffawed. "Of course. I admired him every time I came here as a child. Justicus Lenius, general in the last major battle during the Krogan Rebellions."

"You know what happened to him in the battle?"

"Dad, every turian knows. He lost both his legs to Yagar the Cruel, but killed him and crawled back to his command center." Solana drew in a long breath from her nose as she gazed up at the statue. "He's an inspiration to all turians."

Cadmus smiled at his daughter. She didn't want to carry a gun and be Justicus Lenius; she wanted to inspire other turians, preserve turian history for coming generations and make sure they paid due attention and respect to it. It wouldn't bring her glory, but it was a vital role for their people. It was an honorable goal.

Cadmus walked on, Solana following. They stopped when they reached the balcony that looked down into the Presidium. Solana leaned with her arms on the balcony rail, peering down, her expression deeply contemplative. Cadmus stood next to her, hands gripping the rail. "Do you have something to tell me?" he asked. As with Garrus, he thought the direct approach would be best. It was time to stop this illusion that all was well.

Solana stood up and looked to him. "Did mom say…"

Cadmus raised his hands. "Your mother didn't tell me anything. She's left whatever it is up to you."

Solana looked away, down at the shops below.

"It is obvious, Solana, that something is on your mind. It has been since you arrived."

Solana turned back, sighed and nodded. She walked over to a bench and Cadmus followed her, sitting down as she did. She put a hand to her mouth for a moment, lowered it and turned to him, her eyes intense. "Dad…I met someone while researching at the archives. He's in the same field, a historian."

Cadmus felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

"He's honorable and worthy."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered. "And what is the name of this honorable turian?"

Solana breathed in. "Arrian Sophus." Sophus. A good clan name with a solid reputation. "But that's not really what I needed to tell you."

"What then?"

"Arrian and I have grown close to each other, courted, and we're…engaged."

Cadmus tried not to let shock show on his face. Engaged? Solana was only eigthteen, hardly the age for an engagement. She was only three years out of basic. She had a career to build, her place to find in turian society. Marriage certainly could come later when she was established. Before Cadmus could open his mouth and voice his disapproval, Solana went on.

"I know you'll think we're being too rash, that it isn't the time, but we're not marrying yet, for at least two years. Arrian wants me to find a good job, get some experience, then we'll marry. Really, dad, you'll like him. He's a good turian, just like you in many ways."

Cadmus noted the pleading in his daughter's eyes. She didn't want him to reject the idea out of hand. Cadmus swallowed a lecture and asked a question instead. "How old is he?"

Solana lifted her chin. "Twenty-five."

"Seven years older?" Cadmus questioned.

"He's established. You know I don't care for young dolts with something to prove. Arrian doesn't have to prove anything. He knows who he is and what he wants."

"And he wants you?"

Solana tilted her head at her father's slight joke.

"I'm not teasing," Cadmus clarified. "Is he determined to have you without a word to me?"

Solana wrung her hands. "I asked him not to talk to you. I wanted to explain first. I know it isn't common for turian couples to get engaged without talking to the head of the family first, but times have changed. This is the way turian youth do it now."

Cadmus stared at his daughter. This is the way turian youth do it now? Did she even hear herself talking? Here was his daughter so bound to turian pride she wanted to infuse it on the coming generations and yet she let go the social structures so easily? She was a conundrum he couldn't wrap his mind around.

"Now that I've told you," Solana continued, "He'll talk to you. But I want you to give him a chance. Please."

Cadmus didn't know what to say. He shouldn't be having this conversation, not now. This should have come years down the road. He wanted to dismiss her engagement immediately, tell her to break it off, but then as he began to speak a memory washed over him. The bench they were sitting on had seemed so familiar. Now he remembered. This was where he had found Laelia all those years ago when she had seen him in a drinking game with Nissa. He'd failed her that night. He'd been young and in love and come crawling back willing to rectify his mistake in any way possible. There was something about love that made you sacrifice everything for it. He had known so little about love then. Solana knew little but the beating of her heart for this turian. Reflecting on his failure, Cadmus wasn't sure he could advise her much in the way of love. His own marriage hadn't come about in love, but in duty. He decided to wait for the moment. "I will talk to him, but I make no promises."

Solana nodded slowly, but her eyes reflected her stubborn personality. Cadmus wondered what would happen if he didn't approve of Arrian. Would his daughter run off with the young turian? He wouldn't put it past her.

* * *

When Laelia returned and entered their bedroom, Cadmus was still awake. He'd found it impossible to sleep, Solana's self-determined engagement a weight on his mind. At the sight of Laelia, Cadmus sat up in bed immediately. Laelia spoke as she headed towards the closet to change.

"I see Solana has spoken to you."

"You should have told me," Cadmus asserted. He would rather have been given some warning of such life changing news.

"She asked that I refrain from telling you. I promised I wouldn't."

Cadmus folded his arms over his chest. "How long have you known about this?"

Laelia, who had slipped on her coral negligee, turned to her husband. "She told me two months after she met him that she had an interest."

"And you didn't inform me?"

Laelia chuckled softly. "Fathers are rarely calm regarding their daughter's suitors. I didn't want to ruin her chances."

Cadmus clenched his jaw. "As head of this family, I should have known."

Laelia approached the bed and sat on its edge next to her husband. "And what _would_ you have done if you'd known?"

Cadmus stared into Laelia's eyes. They had always seen straight through him. What could he do but admit the truth? "I would have told her to stop pursuing a relationship. She's eighteen."

"Seventeen when she met him," Laelia said, placing a hand on Cadmus' knee, calming him with her touch.

"Turians don't marry so young."

"Not most, but the marrying age is younger and younger. Some marry by twenty. Turian culture isn't what it was for us, Cadmus."

"I didn't think the Hierarchy would recognize such early marriage."

"What choice does it have? I suppose it could enact marriage laws and force a certain age, but I don't think that would work well. Love blossoms when it does. It doesn't bind itself by law."

"It used to be that a turian couldn't find intitial employment if married. One had to be firmly entrenched in a career before marrying."

Laelia smiled. "Even that was at least a hundred years before our own marriage."

"It was a good philosophy."

"Perhaps it was at the time, but culture changes. That's the way it works. I know we turians like to believe everything stays pertually the same, but it doesn't."

Cadmus folded his arms more tightly against his chest. He didn't want turian society to change. Tradition formed a solid foundation of strength. Mess with it and society might collapse in on itself.

"So, whether you like it or not, your daughter has met a male she feels worthy of marriage. She has told you. What now will you do?"

Cadmus breathed out in perturbation. "I said I would talk to this Arrian Sophus."

"Good."

"But I also said I didn't promise anything."

"I'm not surprised."

Cadmus unfolded his hands and slapped them on the bed. "Do _you_ want her to marry so young? Do you think she's ready?"

Laelia laughed. "Were _we_ ready?"

Cadmus eyed her critically, then grumpily slid beneath the sheets. His action spoke his answer. He hadn't had the least idea what marriage truly meant. Laelia stood, turned off the lights in the room and crawled into bed. She reached out a hand and rubbed Cadmus' arm. "I've met Arrian Sophus. He _is_ a good turian. You'll approve. We couldn't ask for better for her. And Solana is a rational female. She wouldn't pick foolishly."

Cadmus grunted. He wouldn't expect Solana to be stupid about males. Laelia was correct. "This male is to call me to tomorrow. I'll see." Laelia didn't answer, just squeezed his arm and rolled over to sleep.

* * *

When Cadmus arrived at his office the next morning, he was surprised to find Garrus already there.

"Garrus," he greeted as his son stood and gripped his wrist. "How did it go last night?"

"Fine," Garrus said, sitting down again, following Cadmus' lead as he settled himself behind his desk.

"Nothing thrilling?"

"Not yet. Though some potential. A couple bodies found this week missing their organs. Maybe a smuggling operartion."

"You're on the case."

"The whole team."

Cadmus grinned. "Glad Pallus saw fit to use you."

"Me, too. It's an interesting puzzle."

"You'll solve it."

Garrus' mandibles fluttered. "Maybe."

"I know you will."

Garrus nodded appreciatively.

"So…" Cadmus went on, focusing on his computer. "I have work to do. Do you come just to report on your first night?"

"No. I have something to say to you."

Cadmus glanced up, surprised at Garrus' solemn tone. "What then?"

Garrus forged ahead. "It's about Arrian."

Cadmus leaned back in his seat. "So it seems your sister has informed everyone but her father of her actions."

Garrus' mandibles tightened. "You're not the easiest to talk to sometimes."

Cadmus let the statement sink in. He hadn't done anything to put his children off except be the father they needed. He wasn't going to pamper them. That wasn't what they needed. Cadmus let the statement lie. "I understand Solana didn't want a negative reaction from me."

"He's a good turian," Garrus insisted, moving the conversation forward. "He balances her. She's all spitfire and he's calm as a rithan. He's smart, too. They have everything in common."

Cadmus flexed his mandibles. "So you want me to approve this engagement?"

"If you don't," Garrus warned. "Sol will still marry him."

Cadmus' eyes narrowed. "She told you that?"

"No, but I know her too well. She would hate doing it, but she would anyway."

Cadmus felt his gut twist. Garrus had confirmed his own suspicions. He turned his attention back to his computer. "Arrian Sophus is calling me this morning. I will talk to him and make my own decision."

Cadmus heard Garrus stand. "You'll like him, dad. Just don't decide beforehand that you won't." Garrus' footsteps left the room.

Cadmus stopped looking at the computer and contemplated the door. Even Garrus was enamored with this turian. Perhaps he was worthy, but Solana was still young, still his daughter under his protection. The computer beeped. Incoming call—Arrian Sophus. Arrian Sophus—was this a name to honor or despise? Cadmus pushed the button to initiate the call, figuring he was just about to find out.


	26. Strife

Cadmus stood straight and tall, the image of turian duty and pride although his stance belied a heart pounding harshly with nerves. His ear attended the turian speaking next to him in somber, eloquent tones, a turian he would soon be tied to whether he liked it or not. His eyes shifted, glancing down at the blue cord in his hands soon to be given over to his daughter. He recalled that morning how he and Laelia had risen early, Laelia retrieving the blue threads and both of them sitting on the bed weaving them into knots, silently performing their parental duty. Cadmus hadn't thought this action would affect him, but he'd found as their hands moved in tandem binding the strands he sensed deep loss. With every knot, they were letting go of their child. He should have felt proud; in reality, he felt sorrow. Of course, he showed no sign of his true thoughts, his emotions a secret unto himself.

Cadmus looked up from the cord, not at the turian next to him, but his daughter now clothed in a red, sleeveless dress. Her way of engagement may have been unconventional, but every detail of her wedding echoed centuries of tradition. Solana had smiled this day more than any time he had seen her. She couldn't keep her eyes off the one turian that mattered to her more than any other—Arrian Sophus, her soon-to-be husband.

Cadmus turned his attention to Arrian standing across from Solana; he likewise seemed to have eyes only for the Vakarian daughter in front of him. He was shorter for a turian male, had dark green, thoughtful eyes and a bit more rounded face. He was a lighter gray than Solana, almost shining in the bright sunlight of his mother's garden. A knot formed in Cadmus' throat as he gazed upon Arrian. He admired and disliked him at the same time. Contemplating Arrian, his mind was transported back two years ago when he'd first met the turian through an impersonal computer screen…

* * *

Cadmus initiated the call. Arrian Sophus' face appeared, stoic and calm.

"Detective Captain Vakarian, thank you for taking my call."

Cadmus dipped his head once.

"I know Solana has talked to you about us."

"Yes." Cadmus narrowed his eyes and glared, purposing for Arrian to understand his disapproval of Solana's actions.

"I'd like to apologize, sir. I should have spoken to you first."

Cadmus, who had been on the verge of interrupting Arrian to lecture him on protocol, changed direction and simply replied, "I agree."

"The trouble is, sir," Arrian went on, "Solana is quite…persuasive when she wants to be."

Cadmus had to work not to smile. Arrian's tact when describing his daughter amused him…and Arrian was entirely correct in his assessment. Instead of agreeing, Cadmus voiced his other objection. "She is still quite young."

Arrian's mandibles flexed only slightly, a sign of uneasiness. "That's true, but age does not necessarily rule maturity. I want you to know, sir, that I did not know her age until long after we met. Your daughter carries herself with authority and control. I did not think her so young."

Cadmus had taken a moment to respond. This wasn't the conversation he had thought would transpire. He had thought this Arrian would appear onscreen, clearly foolishly in love and immature in his thought patterns. He'd expected excuses and professions of infatuation. Instead, Arrian had spoken candidly, acknowledging Cadmus' position with respect and revealing he viewed Solana with more than raw emotion. "And yet she _is_ young," Cadmus repeated.

"I am aware, sir," Arrian answered. "I do care for her and it is my desire to that we walk as one, but I will not hinder her career and duty to the Hierarchy. I have told her I will not marry her until she has established herself."

"She told me this," Cadmus said. He'd begun to feel uncomfortable. This Arrian sounded too much like himself—in control of his desires and submitting them to the right course of action no matter their temptations. In spite of himself, Cadmus was beginning to feel positive regarding Arrian Sophus' involvement in his daughter's life. "Tell me about your family."

Arrian answered crisply. "My father is an architect for the Corps of Engineers. He designed the Savona Bridge. My mother is the manager of a merchant fleet. Both of them are Palaven natives, as am I. I have six other siblings. I am the youngest, the last to make my mark on turian space."

Arrian's family was respectable, Cadmus decided. What about Arrian himself? "And what is your mark?"

"Well, sir…" Arrian began, his mandibles flexing again in concern, "I know it isn't prestigious really. I tend to think my other siblings involved themselves in such honorable careers there was little left for me to choose from." Here Arrian smiled slightly before continuing. "I'm a historian, currently curating at the Palaven Historical Archives."

Ah…Cadmus recalled Garrus' chuckling the night before when Solana declared her adoration of the archives. Obviously they held more for her than a wealth of historical data. Solana had probably met this young male there. Cadmus had a brief flash through his mind of Solana deep in some ancient scroll and Arrian Sophus walking along and stopping to discuss it. No wonder she'd fallen for him.

"I also teach there. I work for the Corps of Engineers teaching elements of architecture to future officers."

Cadmus drew in a thoughtful breath. Arrian had a solid job and a suitable career. He admitted to himself that Solana would never have gone for a soldier—she needed someone intellectual who could stimulate her mind. It made so much sense for her to find a mate in someone like Arrian Sophus. Why then did his feelings rebel so against the turian onscreen? "I have been informed you know my wife and son."

Arrian nodded. "You have a remarkable family, sir. Solana's mother has welcomed me with nothing but kindness. Garrus I consider a friend. The Vakarian home feels so much like my own now."

Cadmus grumbled inside. His family had certainly been good at keeping Arrian to themselves. Apparently he'd been with them enough to consider their home his home. But he also objectively knew he couldn't hold this against Arrian. His family's transgressions weren't this young male's.

"Sir, I promise you that Solana will have nothing but the utmost respect from me. I will not fail in my duty to her. I will protect and serve her."

Cadmus stared into Arrian's green, sensitive and staid eyes. There was resolution there and absolute commitment. Unfortunately, Arrian Sophus had all the characteristics necessary to be engaged to a Vakarian—good career, personal maturity, loyalty to his choice of mate. Cadmus had no legitimate reason to refuse no matter how much he wanted to. If he did refuse, he wouldn't be able to explain the reason except to throw Solana's age in her face and even that didn't hold up much considering her pronounced maturity. Cadmus tentatively gave in. "I want to meet you in person."

"Of course, sir. When is your next leave? I will make myself available."

Cadmus could have groaned at Arrian's willing flexibility. Every action he took raised his estimation in Cadmus' objective mind, shaking its fist in the face of his emotional subjectivity. "I will let you know. I have work now."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me call you."

"Of course. Vakarian out." Cadmus shut down the call and turned back to work in frustration, trying to assuage the conflict of fact versus emotion warring inside him…

* * *

Cadmus ran an eye over the crisp blue suit Arrian had worn for the wedding. He remembered his own wedding and the overly starched suit that had annoyed him. Arrian wasn't annoyed—his wide grin made that obvious. His only concern was the bride. Cadmus sighed inaudibly. Two years had passed since that first call and Arrian Sophus had done nothing but make himself all the more acceptable. Their first meeting in person had been flawless, Arrian perfectly demurring to Cadmus and perfectly kind to Solana. Every time Cadmus saw the young male it became ever clearer he was a mate made for his daughter. Cadmus had never straight out told Solana he approved, but he had finally asked her when the wedding would take place so he could make sure to appropriate leave. He remembered how Solana had smiled, grasped his hands in gratefulness and then gushed about her ideas for the wedding.

The turian next to Cadmus had finished his speech. Cadmus turned to the light skinned male, almost a copy of his son. He'd heard Arrian's father's speech only with half of his ear. Now that he had finished, it was Cadmus' turn to speak. He still hated talking in public, but he had no choice once again. He looked out at the guests standing and watching the ceremony. He opened his mouth, but halted and smiled when he caught Solana's joyous eyes on him. He'd never seen her so happy. He spoke, his gaze focused on his daughter.

"When two turians come together and decide on marriage, they make a solemn commitment to a duty more monumental than any they have previously undertaken. They have decided to place trust in one another. They will have to learn how to make two lives revolve around each other for the good of themselves and the community. It will not always be easy, but marriage is not about ease. It is about duty and care and must be viewed in such a way to achieve success. You both," here Cadmus indicated Arrian, then Solana with his hand, "have made such a decision. Honor it. Do not forsake it. Even in trial, when you must make decisions that defy your emotions, do so. Commitment must come first in this endeavor as in all others." He stopped and felt a hand on his arm. He turned to Laelia who nodded; his speech had been good. When he turned back, he saw Arrian's father and mother handing their son the red cord they weaved that morning just as Cadmus and Laelia had knotted the blue. Cadmus stepped forward with his wife as well, both their hands gripping the blue cord. They handed it to Solana, who smiled at them and turned back to Arrian.

Arrian grinned and spoke his vows with a strong voice. "I take Solana Vakarian into my heart, my life and my home. I will be loyal to her as she to me. My bond will never break, my commitment never tarnish. We will exist as one cord, ever circling." He placed the cord over Solana's head. It blended in with her dress. In this act, Arrian had acknowledged his parents' influence on his life and joined Solana to his family.

Solana echoed Arrian's grin, speaking next with an impassioned voice. "I give Arrian Sophus my heart and my life, uniting myself to his flesh. My loyalty is his. Our bond will never break, our commitment never tarnish. We will exist as a single cord, ever circling." She passed the cord over Arrian's head.

Laelia made her way to Solana's left side and grasped her left hand while Cadmus took her right. Arrian's parents mirrored this action with their son. All four raised their hands then Cadmus tilted Solana's hand and placed it into Arrian's as Arrian's father released his hand. That was it then. They were united. With this simple action, Solana had passed out of Cadmus' purview and into the safekeeping of her husband.

* * *

Cadmus flashed his omni-tool at the mansion door. It swung open obediently and he stepped aside, letting Laelia enter first followed by Garrus. Laelia sighed and made her way into the parlor, collapsing on the couch. Garrus turned to his father.

"I'm meeting some friends from the Cohort."

Cadmus' eyes widened in surprise. "It's already late."

"I haven't gotten a chance until now to get together with them. We leave tomorrow and I don't want to miss them."

Cadmus realized there was nothing he could reasonably say. Garrus was twenty-five, too old to be forbidden time with his friends. "Just be mindful of our early flight."

"I will. I need the speeder."

Oh. Right. Cadmus had forgotten Garrus didn't have any vehicle of his own. He'd driven the family speeder plenty of times however. "You still have the code?"

"I'm not sure," Garrus said, tapping on his tool.

Cadmus grunted and tapped on his own sending the entry code to Garrus. "Don't lose it this time."

"I won't. See you later, dad…and mom!" Garrus' voice rose at the end to reach his mother in the parlor.

"Have a good time," Laelia's voice called out.

Garrus exited the door the family had just entered as Cadmus proceeded to the parlor. Laelia sat with her head laid back against the top of the couch and her eyes closed. She held her fingers to the sides of her temples.

"Another headache?"

"Um…" Laelia answered in affirmation, eyes still shut.

"That's your third one since we've been here. You should go to Dr. Tayan."

Laelia gradually opened her eyes. "It's just the moist air. We've had too much rain this season. I can manage it with medication."

"I still think you should go." Cadmus made his way through the parlor and into the kitchen. He returned with a glass of chilled acina juice, a refreshing berry mix. "At least drink something. You hardly had anything at the celebration."

Laelia raised her head and accepted the proffered glass. "Thank you." She took a few sips as Cadmus settled next to her. "I wanted to make sure everything went off alright."

Cadmus smiled. "Mother of the bride…it was a success."

"Arrian's mother and father did well, didn't they?"

"It was admirable." The celebration had all the traditional drinks and foods and music. The Sophuses weren't as wealthy as the Vakarians, but they still knew how to celebrate appropriately.

Laelia sighed softly. "Did you see the way they looked at each other when they went upstairs? They are truly in love."

Cadmus knew what Laelia referred to—the time in the celebration when the wedding couple came together and left the gathering to pursue the intimacy they were to enjoy from now on. Solana had been radiant, energy dancing in her eyes. Arrian had looked like a proud turian showing off the choicest wife on the planet. "I don't think they'll have any trouble with the consummare."

Laelia's eyes met Cadmus' and she giggled quietly. They read each other's thoughts. Their own consummare had begun with fear and trepidation on Laelia's part and awkwardness on Cadmus', but it had ended well. Solana and Arrian wouldn't have their obstacles. They already knew and loved each other. They wouldn't have to climb over barriers of fear.

Laelia reached out and patted Cadmus' hand, then closed her eyes and touched her forehead. She was tired, Cadmus knew, and hurting from that terrible headache. She needed a good night's rest. He paused a moment to admire the pale yellow dress she'd bought for the wedding. As always, she had chosen fashionable, attractive clothing. He almost wished he could go back in time and relive their consummare, this time with the current knowledge he had of her. How different it would have been if they had known each other as they did now.

Cadmus stood, then bent over and slid his arms under his wife. He lifted her off the couch and she opened her eyes in surprise. "You haven't carried me like this since I was pregnant with Garrus."

Cadmus walked slowly to the stairs, then climbed them gingerly. "You don't have the strength tonight. I'll walk for you."

Laelia smiled and leaned her head against Cadmus' chest. In truth, the wedding had put Cadmus back twenty-seven years ago, reminding him of his own. They had been young then, figuring this marriage thing out. As much as he would like to relive the consummare, he wouldn't like to stay there. He and Laelia had developed the comfortable intimacy of age. They had passed beyond the fiery passion of newlyweds to the cozy glow of midlife. Cadmus found he rather liked basking in the warm embers.

Cadmus made it to the top of the stairs and walked down to their bedroom. The door opened automatically. As he approached the bed and looked down, he realized Laelia had fallen asleep. He gently laid her on the bed, then searched for a blanket. He found one and draped it over her. He then walked to the other side and lay down next to her with his head propped up on his palm, elbow against the bed, watching his peaceful wife. He smiled ironically. At their consummare, _he_ had been the one to fall asleep, then awaken to the breathless sight of his nude wife backed by glorious moonlight. Laelia had aged, it was true—slight cracks showed here and there, a darkening of the skin. But Cadmus found his feelings for her hadn't changed. If anything, he cared for her all the more.

Cadmus lay back and reached out to extinguish the lights. He pulled off his suit in the darkness, dumping it beside the bed. He usually hung his clothes up, but he didn't feel like leaving his wife's side tonight, even if she was unawares. He closed his eyes. He needed sleep. Tomorrow he and Garrus would take the earliest flight out to the Citadel. As Laelia's deep breathing sounded into the room, Cadmus felt his chest tighten. He didn't want to go back and leave Laelia alone. He hadn't voiced his feelings, of course. She'd made her decision to stay on Palaven, see Solana set up in her own home, be there if she needed her, mother guiding daughter. She'd promised to come to the Citadel after she felt all was well with Solana. Cadmus found he already couldn't wait for her presence to occupy his apartment once more.

* * *

Next morning, before the sun had even risen, Cadmus and Garrus were driven on a C-Sec transport to a C-Sec shuttle. This was another idea of Venari's that had come to fruition. Instead of requiring C-Sec officers to find their own transport home for leave, they now came and went on scheduled C-Sec ships. C-Sec was still primarily turian and by providing their own ships, Venari had streamlined C-Sec's leave process, meaning turian C-Sec officers could get back to the Citadel in record time. C-Sec ships had priority over most others in line for mass relays.

When they had boarded the shuttle and taken off to meet the ship above, Cadmus had taken one last look at Palaven as it waned below. He'd said good-bye to Laelia in their bedroom, insisting she not see them off. Her headache hadn't dissipated enough and he didn't want her to get out of bed so early for their sake. He suggested again she give in and see a doctor, but Laelia insisted it was the stress of the wedding and she thought it would go away now that the monumental event had gone off without a hitch. As Cipritine faded away, Cadmus ached for his wife. He wanted her sitting beside him on the shuttle. His mind also flew to Solana. Down there on that beautiful orb she was leading a new life. She had an internship with a school of higher education and she had married. Everything would be different for her. Cadmus knew he should trust Arrian, had no reason not to, but leaving her in the hands of a younger male still caused him some apprehension. Her welfare now hung on her husband, not her father.

Cadmus glanced over at Garrus. His son sat with his head back and his eyes closed. Most would have assumed he was just sleepy so early in the morning, but Cadmus had disapprovingly noticed his blurred eyes. He hadn't said anything on the ride here, but now that they were on a C-Sec shuttle, he felt he was obligated to speak not only as a father but as the head detective of Zakera Ward.

"I assume you are awake," Cadmus spoke quietly, but firmly.

Garrus cracked open one eye and rolled it over to him. "I am." He closed it again.

"You know how I feel about drinking."

A long sigh escaped Garrus' lips. "You didn't seem to mind at Sol's celebration."

"No one drank to excess. It would have been disrespectful."

"Dad," Garrus spoke, opening both eyes and turning his head to Cadmus. "I went out with my friends, nothing more. I'm not on duty."

"You're on a C-Sec shuttle. You should look like an officer now, not like an immature young turian who can't control himself."

A harsh breath escaped Garrus' nose and he closed his eyes again.

Cadmus tightened his jaw. He was proud of Garrus' role in C-Sec. The last two years had seen him lauded for his investigative skills. He got results. But Cadmus worried that many of those results came by walking a legal tightrope. Garrus seemed to ascribe more to the view that the ends justified the means.

"Garrus," Cadmus spoke lowly so only his son could hear, "People look to C-Sec for security and stability. They need to know you're always there for them, that you won't falter because of your own inhibitions."

Garrus abruptly sat up. His hand went to his head and he spoke quietly as well, though his tone was earnest. "Look, dad, I know that. But I'm not on duty. There's nothing wrong with me right now. By the time we get to the Citadel, I'll be back to normal. So let it go."

Cadmus bristled. It seemed every time he tried to speak to Garrus about his job, they got into an argument. He understood Garrus' desire to be independent, but he felt his son often forgot that he didn't speak only to his father. "You don't talk to your superiors this way."

Garrus sighed again, but looked his father in the eye. "So what are you now? Are you my dad or my commanding officer? Because most of the time I don't know who you are."

Cadmus' mandibles flapped in irritation. "I am both. And because of that, you should listen and obey. Do you understand?" His voice had remained quiet and steady, but his tone implied an officer reprimanding an inferior.

Garrus stared at him for a second. "Fine. Yes, I understand. Next time I take a C-Sec shuttle I'll be completely sober." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again.

Cadmus turned to the window. They were approaching their ship now, but he hardly noticed. Garrus had been in such a good mood during the wedding. He'd welcomed Arrian in with open arms, congratulated Sol, even danced with her. It had been a good break for him from the rigors of C-Sec. Still new to the station, he didn't get the opportunity for leave like those with more tenure. Whereas Cadmus found the constant puzzles to be stimulating, Garrus seemed to find them stressful. He hadn't said much, but had hinted in various ways that he found the confines of C-Sec frustrating. He felt there was too much red tape. During Garrus' first year on the job, he had been the instigator of a famous arrest. A serial killer had terrorized the station, dumping mutilated bodies in Zakera. They were from various races and caused a minor panic as the corpses piled up. The bodies were missing certain organs, so it was clear someone was selling body parts on the black market. Through good detective work and common sense, Garrus tracked down the black market agents, got their confession and then arrested an elcor diplomat. Cadmus had highly commended his son then. But although the criminal had been captured and punished, Cadmus remembered how Garrus had grumbled against policy that almost led to the elcor eluding justice. A couple of the black market sellers claimed their confessions were forced and the elcor ambassador fought to protect its diplomat. Luckily, the evidence had been so strong, neither claim was taken seriously.

_Garrus will learn_, Cadmus told himself as they docked with the ship. _He'll understand why the rules matter. _Cadmus recalled how during his first year in C-Sec he had stepped boldly into a drug running operation without a clue what he was really doing. Luckily for him, Decimus had shown up to rescue his ignorant detective and Cadmus had learned the importance of following C-Sec policy. He assured himself that over time, Garrus would come to support the rules, understanding that they were there to guarantee the integrity of the Citadel Security system.

* * *

Cadmus and Garrus conversed little on the trip home. Cadmus kept himself busy catching up on cases, focused on his tool. Garrus met a couple other co-workers and spent most of his time with them in the combat room or in the mess. The closer they got to the Citadel, the more distant Garrus became. Cadmus understood. His son didn't want anyone in C-Sec to think he depended on his infamous father to make his way in C-Sec. Cadmus recalled how concerned Garrus was that he had been placed in Zakera Ward to begin with. Cadmus had to admit that at times even he regretted Venari's decision to assign Garrus to Zakera. Things between them would have been better if Garrus had been able to spread his wings in a distant Ward.

When they reached the Citadel, Garrus passed by Cadmus' seat, said a quick "See you later" and disembarked with his friends. Cadmus gathered his belongings and left alone, though he wasn't alone for long. As he walked out of the docking bay, he saw Viator clapping Garrus on the back as Garrus departed for his apartment in Zakera. By the time Cadmus reached Viator, Garrus had moved on.

"Cadmus! Welcome back! How was the wedding?" Viator's cheerful way smoothed over Cadmus' ambivalent feelings towards his son.

"I'm guessing Garrus already told you it was fine."

"More than that. He said it was touching."

Touching? Garrus had said that? Cadmus wondered at his son's sentimentality. Of course, it had been his sister's wedding. Maybe that explained it. "It was a good wedding."

"Hard to let her go, huh?"

Cadmus eyed Viator and then slowly nodded. "Yes."

Viator smiled. "I get it. I don't think I'll be able to let Kemi go." His eyes glowed.

"Ah…this explains your meeting me here, then."

"She's on station right now."

"I guessed as much." Before Cadmus and Garrus left for the wedding, Viator had submitted his regrets that he couldn't attend. At the time, there was the possibility that Kemi would be allowed to leave her ship and come to the Citadel for the first time. Apparently, possibility had become reality.

"How did Leea manage to get her off ship?" Cadmus asked, moving again, heading towards his apartment.

Viator fell into step next to his cousin. "Leea's smart," he beamed. "Kemi's singing's getting more fame now, you know. I mean outside the Fleet. There's been more interest in quarian music, ever since _Fleet and Flotilla._"

Cadmus had seen the movie Viator mentioned only because his cousin had forced him to watch it. It was a sentimental, ridiculously romantic, highly unlikely movie about a turian male and quarian female hooking up. Viator joked that it was based on his and Leea's relationship. Cadmus had rolled his eyes at that idea. But Viator was right in his statement that the movie had improved the view of quarians, at least for some, mostly obsessed fans. Soon after _Fleet and Flotilla_ came out, and its popularity had made it lucrative, a musical had been based on it as well. Thus, an interest in quarian music had arrived on the scene. "So Leea did what exactly?"

"Kemi's going to perform at the Dilinaga Concert Hall. Not just her. It's a performance of up and coming singers from various races."

Cadmus eyed Viator. "You want me to come."

"Of course. You can hear her in person and meet her."

Cadmus didn't exactly relish the idea of spending a night listening to youth singing. However, it would have been rude to refuse and he was curious about this quarian Viator called his daughter. "When is it?"

"Three nights from now."

"Get me a ticket. I'll be there."

"I got it already," Viator grinned. "I'll send it to your tool."

Cadmus chuckled quietly and clapped Viator on the cowl. "I'm glad you're on station, cousin. I don't know what I would do without you."

Viator looked mockingly aghast. "Sentiment? From Cadmus Vakarian? Is this what happens to a turian when his daughter marries?"

Cadmus shook his head and removed his hand from Viator's cowl. "I haven't changed."

"I don't know," Viator said when they reached the elevator and stepped aboard. "Fathers have a strange way of acting when their daughters leave them. I've seen it more than once."

Cadmus kept silent, only flapped his mandibles at Viator. He didn't feel any different since Solana's wedding. No, he didn't think he'd changed at all. He was and always would be the same Cadmus Vakarian.

* * *

Two days of work passed effortlessly. Cadmus had worked this job so long he fell right back into the swing of things. He had a heads up e-mail first day back that the 2nd precinct had amassed enough evidence to arrest a drug runner that had eluded them for more than a year. The chief expected to have the human in custody in a day. Cadmus was glad about the news. Drugs had become an increasing problem in the Ward. Objectively, he recognized that this had to do with humans in Zakera. Human gangs seemed particularly adapt at trafficking and eluding capture when it came to drugs. He remembered one human ring they'd caught that sent its drugs packaged inside human organs. Such an action had disgusted him, both because of the potential harm it could do to the carrier, but also because it showed to what lengths some traffickers would go to to import their merchandise. He would love to see another runner taken down.

So it was that two days later, a morning e-mail report surfaced that the trafficker, surname Kishpaugh, had been brought in and interrogated. Cadmus assumed that by the end of the day he'd have a report filed that detailed the trafficker's crimes and the details of his arrest. Instead, right before he was about to head home, he received a message from Venari.

_Come to my office right after you get off. We need to talk._

Cadmus wondered what Venari wanted. Venari was always short in his messages and communication. Most of the time, Cadmus had an inkling what the issue was, but not this time. Cadmus closed down his office, bid farewell to Schleis and made for the Executor's office. When he reached it, he pushed the chime. The door opened and he stepped through. Venari sat at his desk in his spacious room, looking like a turian on a mission. When he saw Cadmus, he stood and gestured to the lounge area.

"Have a seat," he spoke authoritatively.

Cadmus made his way over and sat down in a comfortable leather chair. Venari followed, but instead of sitting across from him at the table in the center, he sat next to him. Cadmus began to feel the beginnings of worry. All the other times he came to see his friend it had been business as usual. He'd never seen Venari leave his desk.

"I wanted to talk to you personally, Cadmus. This is off the record."

Cadmus narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"It's your son," Venari spoke bluntly.

"Garrus?"

"Yes."

"What did he do?"

Venari looked down at a data pad he held in his hand, then back up at Cadmus. "I want you to know I respect your son. He gets the job done. We've brought in more criminals in Zakera's 2nd precinct in the two years we've hired him than the three pervious years. He has your ability to figure things out, to get inside the mind of a criminal and bring him to justice."

Cadmus didn't like Venari's going out of his way to compliment Garrus. It could only mean something appalling was coming. "Get to the point."

Venari shook his head slightly. "I was trying to cushion the blow."

"Don't," Cadmus returned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Venari waved his data pad. "I'm going to send you this. It's a long list of grievances concerning the arrest of a drug runner, Kishpaugh. His lawyer is on our backs."

Humans and their lawyers. Humans rarely faced up to facts. Instead, whenever they got caught, they cried to their lawyers, seeking any loophole to get out of their crimes. "And what is this lawyer saying?"

Venari tapped on the pad and Cadmus' tool vibrated. "Look over the file."

Cadmus flashed on his tool and read. As he did so, his face darkened and his mandibles flattened tightly against his jaw. The lawyer provided proof that evidence had been fabricated about his client, that witnesses had been coerced into testifying against him, that his client had been abused during his interrogation, punched in the face and stomach. Cadmus looked up. "Is all of this true?"

Venari slowly nodded. "I had my own officers on it immediately. They interviewed the witnesses. Some had been offered bribes to speak against Kishpaugh, others threatened with expulsion from the station for petty misdemeanors. During Kishpaugh's interrogation, the camera in the room suddenly stopped working."

Cadmus felt rage deep within his chest. He couldn't believe this kind of thing would be done by officers in his Ward. "Garrus led this?"

Venari's mandibles flexed. "I don't believe so. This was a group effort. But it's clear Garrus supported the evidence, conveniently forgot to file details of witness interviews. Co-workers he socializes with are accused of the assault on the suspect. One witness claims Garrus hinted at lethal repercussions if she didn't turn on Kishpaugh."

Cadmus turned off his tool. "I need to get back to Zakera," he said, standing.

"Cadmus, I know you'll discipline your officers as required. If some of them need to leave the force, I'll support you. I want Garrus to stay. His role was minor. He's a good officer. I'd rather he learn from this than be destroyed by it."

Cadmus nodded, turned on his heel and left Venari's office. Venari claimed Garrus' part in this was minor. It wasn't in Cadmus' view. This was a major offense. His son had gone too far, stepped over the line by more than a few meters. Cadmus' heart burned with shame and anger as he marched back down the hall towards Zakera.

* * *

Cadmus made his way to C-Sec's operation center for Zakera. He found a human secretary on duty there, filing cases and securing orders. There still weren't many humans in Zakera, but some had managed to be hired in the Ward mainly for grunt work. He knew the dark haired human female well enough.

"Lieutenant Galerkin, I want immediate release orders for a human named Kishpaugh arrested this morning. I will officially sign them now."

"Sir," she nodded, her grey eyes intent on her screen.

Cadmus could have gone back to his office, but he didn't want to send the orders electronically and wait until they went through the system. This had to be dealt with immediately. Lieutenant Galerkin handed him a data pad within minutes that he signed off on. "I want you to send this, then contact the 2nd precinct and make sure this is dealt with _now_."

"Yes, sir." Galerkin's business like voice began speaking into her comm. As she did so, Cadmus walked over to a corner of the room and sat in front of a computer screen. He sent the file Venari had given him from his tool to the computer and began to read through the data detail by detail. When he finished, he leaned back in his chair momentarily, then sat forward and began typing away sending several messages. His discipline would be swift. First, the chief of the precinct, Jovaen Pallus, was to be relieved of his duty. Turians always placed blame on the superior over his subordinates. Superiors were directly responsible for what happened under their watch. They were never to give inferiors duties they could not handle. In fact, most of the time superiors alone were punished. In this case, however, there was clear evidence that Pallus' officers had acted illegally without his knowledge. Thus, they too deserved penalties for their actions.

After Pallus, Cadmus went down the list, sending demotions and punishments—extra work, revocation of leave, walking beats. Last of all he came to his son. Venari had been right. Garrus' part in this seemed mainly aggressive interviewing of a witness and allowing doctored files to be pushed through and supported with his authority. Even though his son hadn't been a major player, Cadmus had never felt more convinced that what Garrus needed was a good thrashing in the combat room. Unfortunately, Garrus wasn't a child anymore. Cadmus quickly typed up his discipline.

_Investigator Garrus Vakarian is hereby revoked two rounds of leave and must complete six months of double shifts._

Cadmus sent the message both to the secretary to file and to Garrus. He grimaced angrily as he sat back in his chair. Garrus had failed miserably. His actions had contributed to the release of a dangerous criminal who would continue to plague the station. What bothered Cadmus the most was that his son would learn that the rules mattered by hurting the inhabitants of his Ward. Cadmus was sure that some of the evidence was valid, but with officers throwing their own bogus evidence into the mix, it would be impossible to distinguish the two. A lawyer would easily get this Kishpaugh off. Releasing him had been the only option to save C-Sec's face and provide for another opportunity to bring the drug runner back in later.

After a time, Cadmus stood and walked back over to Galerkin. "Has he been released?"

"Yes, sir," she confirmed. "I contacted his lawyer who confirmed he had been."

"Good work, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir."

Cadmus turned and paced the room. He could leave, go back to his apartment and face the storm that he was sure was headed his way there. But he didn't want this to be private. This wasn't a family matter. This was C-Sec business and he'd deal with it in a C-Sec environment. Approximately fifteen minutes later, the storm broke. Cadmus was standing behind Galerkin, observing the screens she managed that contained data on the entire Ward. He heard the door open, then the sound of heavy breathing like someone had run a long distance to the operation center. He didn't have to turn. He knew who it was.

"Hiding in here, huh? I went by your office, then the club and the apartment."

Cadmus said nothing, just continued to stare at the screens.

"You're just going to ignore me?"

"I'm not ignoring you," Cadmus spoke, eyes still on the screens. "I'm waiting for admission of wrong."

"An admission? *Do you know how long we've been building the case against Kishpaugh? How could you just let him go?"

Cadmus slowly turned around, his demeanor purposefully dutiful and impersonal. Garrus stood in front of him, arms held out wide in disbelief, eyes smoldering with anger. He still thought he was right even when caught, just because the ends justified the means.

Cadmus' voice came out deep and dangerously wrathful. "Evidence tampering. Witness coercion. _Assault_. You call that making a case? I expect that from these rookies who call themselves C-Sec officers nowadays—not from you." He glared down at his son with all the disgust he could muster.

Garrus exploded. "Sure. It's all so easy for you, casting judgment from behind that desk. You have no idea what it's like out there anymore. Guns and drugs _flooding_ into this place—I cut off _one_ supply and _two more_ open up around it…And you'd rather I spend my time doing paperwork?"

Is that what Garrus thought this was about? Paperwork? That his offense was not filing properly? Didn't he see what he'd been caught up in? Didn't he understand that he'd trampled on his reason for being on the Citadel in the first place? He had missed the entire point of C-Sec.

"So if you don't like the rules, you just break them, is that it?" Cadmus shot back, getting to the heart of the matter.

Garrus bristled. "Of course not, it's just…"

Cadmus' voice grew loud and all the tension in his chest burst out in a torrential lecture. "It's nothing. This isn't just a job, son—You have to see the bigger picture. There are millions of people on this station, each with their own ideas of how society works, and some days we're the only ones holding this place together. It's not meant to be easy…" _My son is a disgrace to his uniform, a disgrace to all the lives that depend on him._ Cadmus' internal thoughts came out in a snarky finish to his lecture. "But if filling out paperwork is too much for you, maybe you're not cut out for it. Do things _right_, Garrus—or don't do them at all."*

Garrus stood still for several seconds, eyes seething, mandibles taut against his jaw. He then turned and left the room without a word.

* * *

The next day was Cadmus' off day. He spent the time secluded in his apartment. He'd heard not a peep from Garrus. He hadn't expected to. He'd been tempted to e-mail his son, explain more fully the repercussions of what he'd done and warn him to avoid making friends with officers willing to cut corners to capture the bad guys. However, he knew an e-mail wouldn't make a difference. He didn't need to explain anymore. He needed to give Garrus time to think over his incorrect choices. Maybe Garrus would realize his wrong and make amends. He just needed time.

In the evening, Cadmus left the apartment and made his way to the Dilinaga Concert Hall. He'd been in the hall only a handful of times. It was beautiful, tall, spacious, asari in design and architecture. When he arrived, Viator met him, pure excitement in his eyes. He promised to introduce Cadmus to Kemi after the performance and led him to a seat next to Leea. Cadmus greeted her and sat, fixing his eyes on the stage. Five youths occupied it—an asari, a salarian, a turian, a drell and a petite quarian. Of course, the last had to be Kemi.

"I sent Garrus a ticket," Viator spoke across Leea to Cadmus, "But he said he'd recently been assigned a double shift. He didn't know if he'd make it."

Cadmus shrugged his mandibles. Part of him wanted to let Viator in on the incident here and now, but he refrained. Garrus and Viator had a good relationship. Cadmus didn't want to ruin it by denigrating his son to his cousin.

The performance began and one by one the singers rose and sang their pieces. Cadmus thought the asari's was light and airy, easy to listen to. The salarian's sounded like a garbled military piece, and Cadmus wryly wondered if Kepel or Joran would have found it admirable or as uncomfortable to the ear as it was to him. The turian chose a well known marching anthem. Her pitch was a little off here and there, but for a youth it was acceptable. The drell's song was low, a kind of chanting and Cadmus didn't care for it. Finally, Kemi took the stage, the whole reason he had to sit through this stuff anyway. When she sang, Cadmus couldn't help but feel his spirit stirred. For such a small child, she had amazing control over her voice. Her melody was ethereal, surreal and brought a plethora of clapping and calls of bravo at its end.

Cadmus glanced around the hall at the patrons, noting how many were enthralled with Kemi's performance. As he did so, he noticed his son sitting several seats down in the same row. Garrus' head turned momentarily, their eyes locked and Garrus' blue-grey depths became icy steel. He turned away from his father's gaze. Cadmus looked back to the stage. The asari host spoke shortly, praising the up and coming stars of music and explaining how the audience could purchase recordings of the night's performance. Finally, she released the audience. The moment Cadmus stood, Viator put his hand on Cadmus' back, pushing him through the crowd to meet Kemi. Cadmus glanced back as he did so to find Garrus' seat empty. He skimmed the hall for his son's familiar visage. Garrus was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Author's Note: The dialogue between the asterisks comes from the comic _A Bullet for Your Sins._


	27. Syndrome

Cadmus entered the club with an air of exhaustion. He'd worked overtime for the last few weeks. Two important cases had demanded his attention: a gun smuggling operation and a string of store break-ins. He'd made the cases a priority and even stepped back into the field for a bit, not the least because Garrus' words the last time they talked rang in his ears: "It's all so easy for you, casting judgment from behind that desk. You have no idea what it's like out there anymore." He didn't agree entirely with Garrus' statement, but it didn't hurt to put his feet to the pavement again and get a feel for Zakera outside his office.

Cadmus sighted the social group. He hadn't met with them in more than a month—too busy—but he needed them tonight. He didn't want to go back to an empty apartment. Laelia was supposed to have been on her way to the Citadel two days ago, but she'd put it off when she'd fallen ill. Headaches had continued to plague her and she'd finally seen Dr. Tayan. She was hopeful the new medication she'd been given would defeat her migraines and promised Cadmus she'd catch a transport the moment she felt well enough. Cadmus ached to see her, but also feared it. He hadn't told her about Garrus' actions and his argument with their son six months ago. He would be obligated to tell her when she got to the station and insisted on having Garrus over. He hated she was ill, but he felt a twinge of relief that he didn't have to tell her about Garrus yet.

When Cadmus reached the table, Tychus was the first to see him. "Captain! Come to grace our table again?" The rest turned and greeted Cadmus warmly as he settled into a seat.

"I'll get your drink," Paeon volunteered, leaving before Cadmus could insist it wasn't necessary.

"Viator was regaling us with his daughter's latest recording," Asheel informed Cadmus with a wink.

"How many credits has she made now?" Cadmus asked.

Viator, sitting directly across from him, grinned. "If I told you, you'd drop C-Sec and start singing for a career."

Laughter engulfed the table. "I do not mean to be rude," Joran's staccato voice spoke up. "But I do not believe Captain Vakarian's voice would be financially lucrative." Joran did not speak jokingly; his tone was serious and this caused even more hearty laughter from Cadmus' companions. Cadmus joined in, unoffended. He remembered that Joran had caught him once humming a tune during a stakeout. He'd inquired as to the melody and Cadmus had told him it was the turian anthem, "Die for the Cause." Joran had asked him to sing the first line and Cadmus, with some pushing, had obliged.

"You do not have to worry, hatchmate," Kepel spoke from next to Joran. "Detective Captain Vakarian, I am certain, has no intentions of leaving C-Sec." He looked at Cadmus with a wide salarian smile.

A hand reached down and placed a glass in front of Cadmus. Cadmus glanced up at Paeon, nodded his thanks and sipped. The tang of chilled spice juice tingled his tongue. Cadmus slumped slightly in his chair, willing himself to relax.

"So, if you want to hear the next song…" Groans uttered forth at Viator's words.

"Look, Viator," Tychus explained. "It's not that we don't like her voice. Kemi's awesome, it's just, we don't need to hear about it every time we meet."

Viator turned off his tool. "Well, I suppose I get a little carried away."

"It's been worse since you met her in person," Asheel laughed good-naturedly.

"Has it?" Viator asked. The table nodded in agreement, even Cadmus whom Viator had tracked down on more than one occasion to brag. Cadmus smiled across at his cousin and Viator slowly smiled back. "Alright, I got it. Maybe I'll give you a couple days off," he said, "but only a couple."

"What is in the news, Paeon?" Kepel asked, changing the subject. All eyes turned to Paeon who was reading something on his tool. It was a good guess he was catching up on the news; Paeon liked to keep abreast of goings on across the galaxy. He was a bit of an ANN junkie as well. The human news agency was now regularly available on the Citadel. Although mainly humans watched it, Paeon claimed it was worth paying attention to as its reporters usually announced important stories before other outlets. It was Cadmus' opinion that this was due to the doggedness of human journalists. If it was one thing he hated to see coming through his office door it was a human reporter. They dug into everything and everywhere, even places they had no right to be.

"Palaven," Paeon commented.

"And what do the mighty humans say about our planet of origin?" Tychus asked, draining his glass dry.

"They're interested in the new Primarch. Mainly how he will handle human-turian relations."

"They should ask Cadmus about that," Viator piped up. "They're good friends."

There were some exclamations of "ah" and "oh" and Cadmus found himself the center of attention. He wished Viator hadn't let slip that bit of information. Cadmus set his drink on the table. "I haven't seen nor talked to Arsenius Fedorian in about three years." Cadmus still considered Arsenius a friend, sent him an e-mail with hearty congratulations when he'd become Primarch, something Cadmus had expected would happen eventually. But both he and Arsenius had positions of authority that didn't allow them time to get together as they used to.

"Do you _know_ his thoughts on humans?" Tychus asked curiously.

Cadmus linked his talons together. "I can't give an accurate response. He may have changed his views."

"I'm guessing that means they aren't on his list of favorite races," Tychus noted.

"Your assumption is correct," Cadmus confirmed.

"I think we need to let bygones be bygones," Paeon said quietly.

As Viator opened his mouth to respond, Kepel cut him off. "We do _not_ need to discuss this again. The last time some of you came close to physical combat."

"Kepel's right," Asheel seconded. "Last time we said turian-human interactions were off the table from now on. What else, Paeon?"

"Nothing much," Paeon said, shutting down his tool. "Another expose on Commander Shepard."

"Ah, yes. Human hero worship," Viator sneered.

"At least they choose a military hero," Asheel countered.

"There is that," Tychus said.

"But you would think after six years they'd stop being obsessed over the Skyllian Blitz," Viator spoke with irritation.

Cadmus remembered when news of the Blitz had reached the station. The human colony Elysium had been attacked by pirates and mercenaries, most of them later revealed to have been funded by batarian financiers. The news didn't surprise Cadmus who had known at once the attack must be a batarian retaliation against humans for daring to colonize the same space as the Batarian Hegemony; that and the Alliance had been cracking down on pirate gangs in the Verge. ANN had reported every tidbit and afterward spent hours of the day hailing a young soldier who had almost single-handedly sealed a breach in Alliance defenses—then Lieutenant Jane Shepard. The Lieutenant had been rewarded the Alliance's Star of Terra, an award recognizing courage displayed above and beyond the call of duty. Shepard had become a hero of humanity that day and a ripe subject for reporters that couldn't get enough of shoving humanity's glory into the face of the rest of the galaxy. To be truthful, Cadmus remembered the event but he hadn't been captivated by it. Certainly this Shepard had demonstrated heroism, but he knew from his studies long ago humanity had this capability. There were turians with far more glory under their belts, however. The Blitz was a blip on the screen in the history of the universe as far as Cadmus was concerned; just humanity protecting its interests and nothing more.

"Let humanity have its heroes," Paeon said. "They don't get a lot of kind recognition out here. They have to take what they can get. Besides…" he looked pointedly at Viator. "You don't ever watch ANN so I don't think you'll see much of Commander Shepard."

Viator nodded and smiled slightly. "I don't see the point in listening to human gossip." When Paeon began to protest, Viator held up a hand. "There is truth in some of it, but a lot of it is nothing but speculation."

Paeon blinked his eyes slowly. "Only some of it."

"Alright, enough talk about humans!" Tychus declared. "Next combat competition's in a week. I need the lowdown on the participants…"

Cadmus observed as his friends began to animatedly discuss combat sports. Tychus had gotten pretty good, usually at the top of the heap. Cadmus, of course, hadn't had time to show up at any of his matches since he had been promoted to lead detective of Zakera, but he checked the scores at times. As the night wore on, the gathering began to disperse. Eventually only Cadmus and Viator were left.

"Well," Cadmus said, standing and stretching, "I must seek the 'essence of the slumbering valley,'" he quoted a turian poet.

"Before you go…I wanted to ask you something."

Cadmus looked wearily down at his cousin. He'd gotten used to Viator always asking him for advice, but he wished he wouldn't. Most of the time Viator asked about stuff he didn't have any clue about. Why couldn't Viator just live his own life and make his own decisions? He was fifty-three. He didn't need Cadmus to guide him anymore. "What now?" Cadmus asked with a bit of annoyance.

"What happened between you and Garrus?"

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered uncomfortably. "It's a private matter."

"Come on, Cadmus. I know about the shake up in Zakera's 2nd Precinct. Pallus was fired and I don't know how many officers were punished. It doesn't take a scholar to figure out that the 2nd is Garrus' precinct and you and he haven't been seen together in months. What happened?"

Cadmus ground his teeth a second, then spoke haltingly. "He made…a mistake…a critical one."

Viator sighed. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"If you want to know, ask Garrus."

"I hardly see him."

"So then don't ask. Good-night, cousin." Cadmus turned, but Viator spoke again, causing him to look back over his shoulder.

"One mistake, no matter how critical, can be learned from. I learned. Garrus can, too."

Cadmus didn't answer, just walked to the club exit. Yes, Viator had made a mistake, giving Leea possession of his gun long ago and making himself unable to save Decimus Mehrkuri from a shooter's revenge. But Cadmus didn't know if Viator had learned much from that incident; after all, he seemed glad it brought Leea into his life. Had Garrus learned anything? Cadmus didn't know. He and Garrus had not spoken ever since that evening of confrontation in Zakera's operational center. As far as Cadmus could tell, Garrus had been a model C-Sec officer since, still bringing in the criminals at a record pace, but that didn't mean he had learned. It could mean he just hadn't had a "reason" to break the rules again…yet.

* * *

When Cadmus walked through his apartment door, all he had on his mind was making for the bedroom and crashing blissfully to sleep. However, the comm unit on the wall flashed obstinately. Solana had called and left a message for her father to call her back. Cadmus debated not answering until morning, but figured if Solana had taken time out to call him, it meant something. He hadn't talked to his daughter much since her wedding. She was consumed with her internship and her husband. Once in a while he called to check on her, and the report was always the same: everything was well—her job challenging, her relationship with Arrian stimulating. Actually, despite all his reluctance in letting Solana go, Cadmus found her marriage had been freeing for him. At least he didn't have to worry about one child. Solana's life was exactly what she wanted and she was thriving.

Cadmus moved over to the comm unit, composed himself and then tapped the screen, calling Solana. It took about a minute, but she finally appeared. Her own home backed her, a light, airy modern space with fashionable architecture, a home of Arrian's design.

"Dad…" Solana breathed out, sounding relieved but also tense. He saw in an instant her eyes were troubled.

"Are you alright?" Cadmus asked. "Is Arrian…"

"We're both fine," Solana answered quickly.

"Then what's wrong?"

Solana linked her talons together. "I had a call today. Dad, it's something bad."

Uneasiness began to creep into Cadmus' mind. "Explain."

"Mom went to Dr. Tayan about those headaches…"

The moment Solana mentioned Laelia, Cadmus' stomach sank.

"They did a lot of tests because they've been bothering her so much. And she also told them that she'd been experiencing loss of balance."

Cadmus tightened his mandibles. It was just like Laelia not to tell any of them that this had been more serious than they thought, that she'd been experiencing other symptoms besides migraines.

"Dr. Tayan called me with the results." Solana's eyes misted over. "He's saying it's the early stages of Corpalis Syndrome."

Cadmus said nothing for a moment, simply stood in stunned silence. He knew of the disease. A childhood friend of his had a grandfather who died of it. Cadmus had never met the grandfather, but his friend had described it as horrible, death slowly draining you until you gave in. Cadmus finally whispered, "Does your mother know?"

Solana shook her head. "Dr. Tayan asked if I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell you first and Dr. Tayan also said you should call her. She wants to talk to you about treatment options."

"Your mother should be involved in those decisions."

"She will be, but I do think you should talk to Dr. Tayan first."

"I'll call her now," Cadmus assured Solana.

"Should I tell mom?" Solana asked, her voice strained, almost breaking. Cadmus could tell she was trying to keep it together.

"She wouldn't want us to keep it from her. Tell her."

"Okay…I can go by there now."

"Make her call me afterwards."

"I will. Make sure _you_ tell Garrus. Bye, Dad." Solana disappeared from the screen.

Cadmus stumbled over to the couch and sat back against it, staring at nothing. Corpalis Syndrome…What exactly was it? He flashed on his tool and started to tap furiously, searching the extranet for info. He found a page that described it in detail and as he read he shuddered. It was a rare neurological condition in which the brain wasted away, the affected thus losing the ability to control his body. Loss of balance was the first to go, then the disease traveled upwards, usually until it reached the lungs. Then the brain forgot to breathe and most patients died at this stage. Cadmus' heart pounded in his chest and his stomach flipped as he read. He searched the page for any detail on treatments, but found none. His friend's grandfather had died when he was a child. Certainly they had made medical advancements since then? Laelia's circumstances couldn't be as dire as the information on the page.

Cadmus took several long breaths to steady his mind, then stood up from the couch and went back to the comm unit to call up Dr. Tayan. He had to wait several minutes until his call was answered. During that time he had to keep steeling himself over and over again, making his nerves calm enough to discuss with the doctor in a rational fashion. After what seemed an eternity, Dr. Tayan appeared on the screen in her office. She nodded crisply to him.

"Captain Vakarian. I expected your call. I'm sorry for the bad news."

Cadmus nodded, but said nothing.

"I'm going to be straight with you. Corpalis Syndrome has no known cure. We can try various treatments, some new medications have recently been approved. I'd like to first try a flush of her system. She'd be in hospital for a couple weeks while we did so. Then we can start the medication, see if it affects the symptoms."

Cadmus nodded again.

"I'll need you to approve the medication."

"Won't you need my wife to do that?" Cadmus asked quietly.

Dr. Tayan's mandibles tightened and her eyes looked alarmingly sad. "Corpalis Syndrome affects the ability to think and reason. For most of this, you'll be the one making medical decisions. She won't be able to."

Cadmus felt a bitter knot form in his throat. "Then go ahead."

"I'll send a form for you to sign. Send it back immediately."

Cadmus nodded for a third time, then spoke slowly. "Can you estimate how much time she has?"

Dr. Tayan flapped her mandibles. "It's hard to judge. I know she was in an accident several years ago."

Cadmus tilted his head. "Yes." The hit and run. Aiolus Mehrkuri.

"Corpalis Syndrome often doesn't show up until a turian is in his seventies. But sometimes something triggers it early. It's possible the accident did so. The strange thing about this disease is the younger you are when it appears, the faster it seems to take over."

Rage burned in Cadmus' chest, but he maintained his outward stoicism. If he had Aiolus Mehrkuri in this room he would have had no qualms about throwing off his stringent adherence to rules and beating him to death. Aiolus had still eluded Decimus all these years. He was too stealthy. Cadmus made a mental note to check up on Decimus and find out if he had any new information on Aiolus.

"How long?" Cadmus asked, his voice low.

"If the treatments work and we stave if off, she could live another eight years. But if nothing helps, she could hold out for maybe two years, five years at the most."

Cadmus didn't know how to handle this information. Two years. He couldn't wrap his mind around the doctor's estimation.

"We're going to do everything we can. To be honest, you're in the best position for this. You have the money to spend on the treatments. They're expensive and most turians don't have the financial capability to pay for long."

Cadmus breathed in and out slowly. Best position. How bitterly ironic. "Thank you," Cadmus said.

"Please call if you have any questions. I'll arrange an appointment for her immediately and let Solana know."

"Alright."

"Dr. Tayan out." The screen went blank.

Cadmus wandered to the bedroom. He mechanically changed out of his C-Sec armor and into his pajamas. He laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Here he had been hoping for Laelia's presence on the Citadel. It would never happen now. She'd be forced to stay on Palaven in a desperate fight for her life.

* * *

0300 found Cadmus pacing the living room. He hadn't been able to sleep. He wished Solana had called him, informed him if she'd already talked to Laelia. How long did it take to drive from Solana's home to the mansion? He wasn't sure. But maybe Solana hadn't gone right away. Still, she should have told Laelia by now.

Cadmus felt the urge to leave several times, to go down to the Academy and drain a rifle into a target, but he needed to stay. He needed to take Laelia's call privately. Cadmus paced…0305…0310…0315…He fell into a pattern, around the couch, in front of the door, back to the comm unit. 0317…the unit chimed. Cadmus halted next to the couch and turned abruptly, rushing to the unit. He slapped the screen. Laelia's face blossomed before him.

"Cadmus," she spoke in her tender tone. "I'm sorry I didn't call until now. I needed time to think". He tried to read her emotion. He couldn't. She seemed steady, unchanged. Had Solana told her anything yet?

"Is Solana there?" Cadmus asked, trying to sound casual.

"I know, Cadmus," Laelia spoke quietly. "I know."

Cadmus twisted his hands together. "I've talked to Dr. Tayan. She's arranging an immediate appointment and treatments."

"Good," Laelia affirmed. She looked at Cadmus as if she could see right through him. "It's alright. I'm not afraid, husband. I've had a good life. If this is the end for me, I have no regrets."

Cadmus could hardly bear Laelia's words. "You sound like you've given up."

Laelia smiled. "I haven't given up. I have fight in me you haven't even seen. But I'm not going to lie to myself. I know this is bad."

"There are new medications…"

"Then I'll try them. But if I should lose the battle, I'm content. I've had a loyal and dutiful husband and two delightful children both now succeeding in their own careers and one of them happily married. That's what matters after all, isn't it?"

Cadmus slowly shook his head. It sounded ideal. Then why did it have to be ruined by Corpalis Syndrome? "You're not even near the age to leave me."

"I'm not leaving. Not yet. Cadmus, I don't want you to despair. It's not like you. You fight to the end. So will I."

Cadmus had no words to answer. He wanted to shout at Laelia, command her not to fall under this disease the way he would command an officer. When he commanded, his orders were followed without question. But no amount of shouting could make Laelia better. For once in his life, Cadmus felt utterly out of control, at a loss when something appeared he couldn't puzzle out and fix. And to make it worse, the female who was going to die slowly losing herself had way more control over her emotions than he did.

"I have to go. I wish I could talk to you longer, but I have my parents to call. They deserve to know."

Cadmus nodded. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting. Good-bye, Cadmus." Laelia shut down the transmission. Cadmus turned and angrily punched the couch with his fist, kicked it with his foot and collapsed onto it. Laelia had always been an excellent wife, submitting to his desires, living alone on Palaven, raising two children primarily by herself, always there, always the foundation of her family. She didn't deserve this. She of all people deserved smooth golden years. Her resignation to the Syndrome both comforted him and made him angry. It comforted him that she'd been able to approach it with objectivism; it angered him that even now she was putting on a brave face for her family, wanting to spare them her pain.

Cadmus suddenly sat up. Laelia had given up everything to be his wife. Everything. She'd been loyal to a fault. And now it was his turn to give back. He flashed on his tool and tapped. She wouldn't go through this alone.

* * *

Cadmus punched the chime at Garrus' apartment. He waited a minute, then hit it again. This time, a groggy voice answered. "Who is it?"

"It's your father," Cadmus replied.

There were a couple seconds of silence, then, "I'm tired. I got off my last double shift two hours ago."

"I need to talk to you."

"I can come into your office."

Cadmus drew in a breath. "I'm not here about C-Sec. This is family business."

Another pause. "Give me a second."

Cadmus waited impatiently, not out of anger, but because what he had come to tell Garrus would hurt him to hear. Cadmus wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. After a few minutes, the door opened. Garrus stood clothed in C-Sec casuals. As he looked at his father, Cadmus thought it seemed he saw him from a great distance.

"What is it?" Garrus asked.

Cadmus gestured inside. "Can I come in?"

Garrus flapped his mandibles in a shrug and stood to the side. Cadmus walked through. He had only been to Garrus' apartment a couple times. It was a small affair, only a tiny living area, a kitchenette and a bedroom. Cadmus knew Garrus was financially astute. An apartment this small meant he could save and Cadmus assumed he was. Cadmus sat down on a gray plush recliner, a human chair that had been marketed beyond Alliance space.

"You want a drink?" Garrus asked. Cadmus shook his head. Garrus sat down on the other matching recliner a few feet away to his father's left.

"I've come to discuss your mother."

Garrus' mandibles fluttered in surprise and his eyes widened. This was obviously an unexpected subject. "Mom?"

"Do you remember the headaches she had when we were there for the wedding?"

"Yes…" Garrus spoke hesitantly.

"She went to Dr. Tayan. She's been diagnosed with Corpalis Syndrome."

Garrus brought his hands together and looked intently at Cadmus. "I haven't heard of it."

"It's a rare neurological disease. It only affects one in ten thousand turians. It wears away brain activity so that a patient gradually loses control of his body and its functions."

Garrus sat stock still, staring at Cadmus. When he spoke, it was with a dry voice. "Mom is going to die from it."

Cadmus stared back at his son. "Her chances aren't good, no. There's no cure yet. They can try and mitigate symptoms, slow it down…" Cadmus' voice faded.

Garrus turned away. He stood and paced to the kitchenette and back, rubbing his neck. He stopped and looked pointedly at Cadmus. "She _can't_ die that way."

Cadmus slowly shook his head. "She has no choice, son."

"You're telling me she's just going to give in to this thing?" Garrus spat out angrily.

"She'll fight it as long as she can, but we have to face facts. There is little hope."

Garrus let out a harsh breath and slumped back into the recliner. "She doesn't deserve this."

"No, she doesn't," Cadmus agreed in a whisper.

Garrus suddenly stood. "I'm going home." He began to walk to the bedroom, but Cadmus called out.

"No, you're not!"

Garrus turned back. "Mom needs me. I'm going."

Cadmus stood to face Garrus squarely. "Your mother is handling this better than anyone. I can guarantee you she would hate you to leave the Citadel for her."

"Are you seriously saying this?" Garrus cried out. "You just expect us to go on here day in and out when she's suffering and dying back on Palaven?" Garrus flung his arm out angrily.

"_You're_ staying here. This is your career now. Your mother wouldn't dare you give that up for her. _I'm_ going back to Palaven."

Garrus lowered his arm. "What do you mean?"

Cadmus took a deep breath and then let it out. "I'm resigning. I already sent Venari…Pallin…my resignation form."

Garrus blinked a couple times. He looked shocked and not sure how to respond. Cadmus couldn't help but feel a little offended that Garrus would think he would abandon Laelia when she most needed him.

"I swore my duty to her when I married her. Yes, I'm going home."

Garrus backed up against the wall, folded his hands over his chest and bowed his head, studying his feet. "I should go," he mumbled.

Cadmus could see Garrus had accepted the truth that his mother would balk at his throwing his career away and running back to Palaven on her account. "You'll have time to see her. She won't leave us yet and she's going to get the medication she needs. There are some new meds. Maybe they will be the breakthrough and she'll defeat the Syndrome completely."

Garrus looked back up with annoyed eyes. "You do remember my last two leaves were revoked. I've only missed one."

Cadmus swallowed. Of course. Garrus' punishment hadn't entirely played out yet. Cadmus knew it should stand, but turians weren't without mercy on occasion. "I can get that changed."

Garrus stared at him a moment, then reluctantly shook his head. "It wouldn't be right for me to get special treatment because you're my father."

Cadmus cocked his head in surprise. It was an honorable thing for Garrus to say in such dire circumstances. "Alright. But I'll get your leave after moved up and don't argue with me."

"Yes, sir," Garrus responded automatically.

Cadmus looked around the apartment uncomfortably. He'd come to say what he had to. He and Garrus had so little in common and their relationship was so strained, he couldn't think of anything else.

"I need to get some sleep," Garrus ventured, letting them both off the hook.

"Of course. Night, son." Cadmus walked to the door and exited.

"Night, dad." The door shut and Cadmus walked down the hall, his mind awhirl with the work he had to complete in a week. He'd have Zakera ready to pass on in perfect order.

* * *

"The Citadel won't be the same without you, Cadmus," Viator claimed as he walked with Cadmus to his apartment at the end of his last day on the job.

"It won't change," Cadmus disagreed. "You'll still have the same trouble, the same crime to tackle."

"I meant personally," Viator clarified. "You've been here for so long…It will be hard getting used to life without you."

Cadmus rolled an eye over to Viator and back. He and Viator were as different as night and day, but they had a familial comradeship like no other. Back on Palaven, he didn't have friends like he did here, but it didn't matter. Only Laelia mattered now. "You have other peers here that can offer you their advice. Besides, you spend most of your time on Leea and Kemi anyway."

Viator smiled. "True." Kemi now made regular trips to the Citadel. She was an oddity as a quarian, not the least because she had a turian for a "father." Very few quarians left the Fleet until their pilgrimage. Cadmus had gathered from overhearing conversations between Viator and Leea that not everyone on Kemi's ship approved of her travels, but her ship's captain, a family friend of Leea's, had authorized the visits. His word was law and thus Kemi came and went from the Citadel. Currently she was back with the Fleet again as was Leea.

Cadmus paused a moment when they reached the balcony overlooking the Presidium. He stared out at its grandeur. It would be the last time he would see it for awhile. "The truth is, cousin, the Citadel has stood for thousands of years. It's the foundation of our lives, every one of the races. It's too impervious to time to change much."

Viator put a comforting hand on Cadmus' shoulder. "You leaving _is_ a change, whether you know it or not. Your name is legendary in C-Sec already."

Cadmus looked uncomfortably to Viator. "I've only done my duty. There's nothing in it to glorify."

"Maybe you think that, but you've been an inspiration to lots of turians on the force."

Cadmus walked quickly away. All this sentimental talk was overwhelming. He didn't talk like this often and he didn't like it.

Viator jogged to keep up with his cousin. "I'll watch over Garrus. Be family to him here."

"I appreciate it." Cadmus stopped at the elevator to his apartment. "Now, thank you for walking me home like a pet igurd."

Viator chuckled. "Well, it was the least I could do. It's hard to believe you're leaving. Not that I want you to stay. You need to go. It's just, I expected you to be a fixture on the Citadel until you died."

Cadmus sighed inaudibly. He'd thought that, too. At least, he thought he wouldn't have left C-Sec until forced to resign when others insisted he was too old to do the job properly. Viator didn't know it, but all week long as he'd squared away the cases and orders of Zakera he'd fought the urge to take his resignation back. He had been born to be a detective and designed for the Citadel. Palaven couldn't challenge and stimulate him like this station could.

"When is your flight?" Viator asked.

"Early. 0400."

"I'll be there."

"I figured you would." Cadmus slapped Viator on the cowl, then stepped into the waiting elevator. His cousin's face disappeared as the door shut. Cadmus tapped his foot on the elevator floor. He wasn't any good at saying good-byes. Viator was too emotional for a turian. What he wanted was a quick statement of farewells and then boarding his ship. He was afraid Viator would make everything too uncomfortable tomorrow with his sentimentality.

The elevator door opened and Cadmus walked down the narrow hall to his apartment for the last time. He stopped before it and took a breath, preparing himself for what he hoped was inside. He flashed his tool at the door and entered. He sighed in relief. Garrus looked up at him from the couch. He'd asked Garrus to meet him here, but didn't know if his son would come. He hadn't commanded him, simply requested. Cadmus walked in and sat in the chair across from the couch, gazing over the coffee table. Garrus sat there in his C-Sec armor, going on duty soon.

"I'm glad you came."

Garrus nodded. "It's your last day, so I thought I should."

Cadmus fixed Garrus with a serious gaze. "Garrus, I'm leaving and you're the one to uphold the Vakarian name now."

Garrus' mandibles flexed. "Is this 'get in the last lecture' time?"

Cadmus let a growl escape his throat. "It's 'listen to your father like a good solider' time."

Garrus relented, waving a hand, indicating Cadmus could continue.

"I _know_ this job isn't easy. It never will be. You have to juggle all the races, force them to follow Citadel law, lose a criminal here and there because the evidence isn't strong enough. I've been here twenty-seven years. I've learned a lot and if it's one thing I want to pass onto you it's the fact that rules matter. This place would fall apart in less than a day if it didn't abide by them. You have to be the voice of the law. You have to protect this place from the evil that would seek to mar it."

"I _am_ doing that," Garrus asserted quietly.

"I know. Don't give up. Keep at it. It's worth it."

"I got it."

Cadmus leaned back in his seat and switched gears. "I'll tell your mother you'll come next leave."

"She knows. I've told her."

"Good."

Garrus stood. "I'm on duty soon."

Cadmus stood as well, though he wished Garrus could see past their differences and deign to stay a little longer. Who knew when they would see each other next? However, Cadmus kept his thoughts hidden and simply reached out his hand. Garrus responded in kind and they shared a wrist grip. "Thank you for coming by."

"Don't mention it." Garrus walked to the door. He didn't look back, but said as he exited, "Have a good flight, dad."

Cadmus heard the door shut behind his son. He turned and stared at the door. Leaving the Citadel felt like he was disregarding his duty to his son. Garrus was still so new to the station. But what could he really do anyway? Garrus had his own ideas and wasn't keen on hearing from his father. Cadmus knew he would just have to let Garrus go and hope for the best.

* * *

0400 came too soon. Cadmus had risen, picked up his couple bags and left the apartment. Perhaps some would have taken one last walk around, but Cadmus hadn't felt the need to. The apartment had served its purpose. Now it would be handed over to another turian eager to make the Citadel home. For all the time he had spent there, the apartment had never been entirely home, not without Laelia and his children. It had been a place to sleep and eat and very little else.

Cadmus rode the elevator down to the gardens, appreciating them one last time as he passed through. Then he took the elevator down to the Presidium and hailed a cab to take him to the docks. When he reached them, he made his way to docking bay 58, a C-Sec bay. He had to turn a corner to get to the bay, a last hallway to traverse until he reached the ship that would fly him home. When he rounded the corner, he froze in his steps. His eyes widened and his heart thumped. Standing on each side of the hall were C-Sec officers at attention, most of them faces he recognized, officers he had worked with over the years. All of them wore C-Sec armor that looked as if it had been polished that morning. Cadmus saw at the very end of the line Venari Pallin standing before the docking ramp with Viator next to him.

Cadmus felt moisture in his eyes and blinked rapidly. He drew in a long breath to steel himself. _Curse them for doing this to me!_ He marched down the hall as straight and tall as the officers that had come to honor him. When he reached the docking ramp, he saw the last few officers in the lines were his good friends: Kepel, Paeon, Tychus, Asheel, Joran and even Denae and Schleis. He nodded as he passed them and walked up to Venari.

Cadmus scowled at Venari, but nodded his head to Viator. "Did _he_ put you up to this?"

Venari's eyes danced mischievously. "It was _my_ idea. I asked Viator to arrange it." Venari gestured to the officers at the end of the line. Cadmus' friends descended on him, expressing thank yous and saying their good-byes. Cadmus found it difficult to control his emotions as he faced each officer speaking to him. Every face had a story behind it, an experience, a certain case they'd tackled together. He patted each of them on the back, thanked them for their service, exchanged numerous wrist grips, then finally turned back to Venari.

"Enough. I need to go."

Venari nodded once. "C-Sec wishes for you honor and glory to the end of your days."

"And I wish the same for C-Sec." Cadmus walked to Viator.

Viator spoke in a hushed voice. "I want you to know Garrus would have been here, but he was on duty. He said you'd understand."

Cadmus nodded. He did. He and Garrus had said what they needed to last night. He gripped Viator's wrist tightly. "Good-bye, cousin."

To Cadmus' relief, Viator didn't bumble on about how much Cadmus had helped him over the years. He simply squeezed his wrist and said a crisp, "Farewell, cousin."

Cadmus marched up the ramp, turning back momentarily to raise his hand in a final farewell. It was returned by every last officer in the lines.

When Cadmus settled into his seat and the C-Sec ship pulled out of the docks, Cadmus watched the Citadel as its full beauty came into view. The central ring was backlit by the Serpent Nebula's ghostly purple glow, a stunning sight. Soon the five arms became apparent, ever rotating, spinning to maintain gravity at all times. Cadmus couldn't take his eyes off of the station. He watched it until it was nothing but a dot in the darkness of space. Then he looked away and down the aisle at the windows near the front of the ship, resolutely setting his face towards Palaven.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks again to everyone who's following this story! My updates will hopefully come faster again now that summer vacations are behind me. Since someone asked, I'll let you know that there is one more chapter to go until ME1.


	28. Tragedy

When the chime rang at the Vakarian home, Cadmus made his way to the front door to open it himself. Not too long ago, a civil servant would have done so, but both Cadmus and Laelia agreed to let go most of the servants when he arrived home. The costs of Laelia's treatments as detailed by Dr. Tayan would be dear. They decided they didn't need servants. Cadmus was capable of handling the house himself. They had only retained a chauffer and a maid; Laelia's parents, devastated by their daughter's illness, had also hired a personal nurse for her. Laelia's parents came to the house often. Cadmus dreaded their visits. He certainly couldn't begrudge them visiting their daughter, but they left Laelia in a morose frame of mind every time. Instead of inspiring Laelia to fight the Syndrome, they acted as if she was already on death's door and would go any minute, her mother hardly holding it together. Anytime they visited Cadmus made sure to spend extra time with Laelia to bolster her mood.

Cadmus was glad Laelia had consented to lean on him so much these last several months. When he'd shown up home, she had balked at his decision to leave the Citadel; he purposefully hadn't told her he was resigning, certain she would try and make him stay. He'd informed her that his retirement was already final, shutting down any opportunity for protest. Then he'd sworn that she was all that mattered to him now, his life as a C-Sec officer permanently behind him. She had fallen into his arms then and he'd perceived how grateful she actually was for his sudden appearance. She didn't say it, but he intuited that she'd wanted him there all along but her staunch loyalty had forbidden her to voice her desire.

Cadmus opened the front door to find Solana and Arrian in the entryway. Solana had come by often since her mother's diagnosis, providing Laelia with the female companionship Cadmus couldn't give her. Arrian visited as well, though not as frequently as his wife.

"Good morning, dad," Solana greeted her father, gripping wrists quickly, then passing into the foyer.

"Sir," Arrian said, sharing a wrist grip as well and following Solana. Cadmus noticed Arrian carried a traveling bag.

"Your mother's on the porch," Cadmus told Solana.

"I'll go see her," Solana said. She shared a sideways glance with Arrian, then sauntered towards the back of the house.

Cadmus gestured to the parlor, but Arrian waved a hand. "I don't have time to sit and talk, though I wish I could."

Cadmus pointed to Arrian's bag. "Traveling for work?"

Arrian nodded. "Only for a short time. Actually, a trip to the Citadel. I'm meeting up with a drell scholar."

Cadmus cocked his head. "A drell?" Arrian's area of expertise was specifically turian history, not the galactic past.

"Yes. I think you know that the hanar employ many drell as assassins."

Cadmus nodded. He recalled his one personal encounter with a drell, the child who had been shadowing an assassin to learn his skill. That was twenty-four years ago. He wondered briefly if the young drell had escaped his fate or if he'd become the assassin the hanar wanted.

"Well, we found this letter in the archives. Its wording seems to indicate that there was some interaction between a drell assassin and turian generals about 180 years ago. Of course, the drell have only been part of the galaxy extensively for approximately 200 years. So how did a drell assassin and turian generals contact each other? And why? It might be obscure history, but it's interesting nonetheless."

Cadmus smiled inside. It would be interesting, but he didn't see anything so compelling that it was worth going to the Citadel. He certainly wasn't a historian. He would have read such a letter and set it aside. But Arrian was to history as he was to security: neither of them could let a puzzle rest until it was solved.

"Anyway, we found a drell who says he knows about it and he agreed to meet with me in person. He's unwilling to communicate over comm."

"Sounds interesting," Cadmus said, wanting to support Arrian and not honest enough to voice how unimportant he thought the letter.

Arrian smiled and Cadmus guessed he had read his thoughts. "The reason I came by with Solana is I want her to stay here while I'm gone, give her time with her mother. She doesn't need to be home alone."

Over the past few months, Cadmus had come to truly appreciate Arrian Sophus in his daughter's life. He was a good turian through and through. Now again, he recognized Arrian's foresight and thoughtfulness. "It's a wise idea."

"It's what should be done, sir," Arrian replied. "I am sorry for all that your wife is going through."

Cadmus' mandibles flexed. "I am, too."

"Whatever we can do…"

"You have already offered and I will let you know."

Arrian's mandibles flapped. "Of course. Now, I must say good-bye to Sol. I need to drive to the port."

Cadmus let Arrian pass him and then followed several meters behind, stopping to observe his family through the back windows. Laelia sat on the porch, a data pad in her lap. She had taken up reading as an intense hobby these days. Dr. Tayan said keeping her mind active could aid in slowing down the Syndrome. Really, if someone had met Laelia for the first time, he would hardly guess anything was wrong with her, not by her interaction anyway. She answered questions a little slower, had to think between words at times, but this could easily be perceived as careful consideration, not the fact that she was working to connect her brain to her tongue. What did give her away was what Cadmus gazed at now: braces on Laelia's legs. She hadn't lost control of them completely, but enough that she hadn't avoided a few painful spills. The braces stabilized her, preventing any further falls. Cadmus hated those braces, not for their help, but for what they represented. They were a constant reminder that all was not well for his wife.

Solana sat next to Laelia, talking with her. When Arrian stepped onto the porch, Solana stood and embraced him. They were always open with their affection. Cadmus watched as they shared a kiss and then Arrian spoke for a time to Laelia. Eventually he moved back into the house. Cadmus met him on the way.

"Take good care of my wife, sir," Arrian said, smiling.

Cadmus smiled back. "Certainly. Tell Garrus we remember him here."

"I will." Cadmus took a step towards the door, but was halted by Arrian who held up a hand. "You don't have to escort me. Go enjoy time your wife and daughter." He ambled on, heading to the entry way, his father-in-law watching him with respect and admiration.

* * *

Two weeks passed in relative ease. Cadmus basked in the delight of having both his wife and daughter at home. He appreciated Solana's help in keeping up with her mother's treatments. It wasn't difficult to care for Laelia, but a break was welcome. Solana drove Laelia to the hospital a couple times and Cadmus knew Laelia relished the time with her. It strengthened Laelia's spirits to share mother-daughter time.

Cadmus didn't regret leaving the Citadel. Every day he saw his wife walk carefully through their home aided by the braces he knew this was where he was meant to be. Even so, he couldn't escape the boredom of his current circumstances. For years he had plied himself to puzzles, his mind constantly challenged. A week or so at home and he had begun to go stir crazy. He needed an avenue of escape and therefore approached some security officers, friends still on the force that he'd worked with years before. They had graciously added him to their duty rosters as an officer emeritus—he offered advice on local crime and cases as needed. For this reason, when Garrus called his sister, Cadmus was sitting in his office at his computer, contemplating a difficult murder case. His friends thought he might catch something they had missed.

Solana had been away all day. Even though she had been staying with them, it wasn't a vacation for her. She still had internship duties. She'd been told that when she finished interning a job opening would be available. Arrian had already joined the Cipritine scholarium in the architecture department so he and Solana wouldn't be separated even by work.

As Cadmus perused an autopsy report and glanced back and forth at crime scene photos, he heard the front door swish open. He looked up curiously. Few had the code to their home and none were due to show up at this hour. The maid and chauffer had the day off and the nurse would stop by in the evening. Stunted footsteps sounded in the hall and a small, shaking voice called out.

"Mom? Dad?" It was Solana. Cadmus didn't know why she was here. She'd told them she wouldn't be back until late.

"In the office," Cadmus called out. Solana came into view. Her eyes were moist, her mandibles drooped. Cadmus stood. "Are you alright?"

Solana locked eyes with him and Cadmus' skin tingled with fear, sensing in them an empty void. "Arrian's dead."

Cadmus' heart dropped. "What?" he asked incredulously.

"Garrus called. He's bringing Arrian home. He was shot."

Cadmus swallowed hard. "How?"

"He went on a call with Garrus. Some krogan…I don't know," Solana abruptly turned and hurried away, calling out, "I need to see mom."

Cadmus didn't move, frozen in shock. Arrian had died on a call with Garrus? Why was Arrian even with Garrus? Civilians weren't allowed to go on calls. Shock began to give way to wrath. Cadmus could guess what had happened. Garrus had brought Arrian along, heedless of the rules, wanting to show off for his brother-in-law and he'd gotten Arrian killed. His recklessness had finally and devastatingly caught up with him and Cadmus assumed he was no longer C-Sec, fired and disgraced and up for court martial…but that couldn't be right. They wouldn't let Garrus leave the Citadel if he was at fault, but surely he was. Wasn't he?

Cadmus walked in a daze down the hall to Laelia's bedroom and waited outside, his back to the wall. After a few minutes time, Solana appeared. She began to walk away, but paused when she saw Cadmus standing there. Their eyes met and Solana quickly looked away.

"How is she?"

Solana, eyes diverted, whispered, "I told her, then I insisted she take her medication. She's sleeping now."

Solana made to pass by, but Cadmus spoke again. "Solana, you…"

Solana snapped her head to him and practically shouted, "I'm going out."

Cadmus let her walk away without another word. Nothing he could say would stem the burning hurt in her soul. Even when he'd started to speak, he hadn't been sure he could say anything worth saying. Solana disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Cadmus subconsciously put his hand to his chin, trying to think objectively and failing. Back on the Citadel, Cadmus had thought Laelia's diagnosis the worst that could happen to the Vakarian family, but he had been wrong. It was even worse to watch your daughter being destroyed from the inside…and to know her brother was responsible.

Mechanically, Cadmus quietly slipped into Laelia's room. He didn't know what else to do. Instinctively he knew Solana needed to be alone so he didn't chase her down. But he suddenly felt a desire to look on his wife and be near her.

Laelia was asleep as Solana had said. Cadmus settled into a chair next to her bed and observed her still form. He assumed Solana had given her a medication to relax her—such news as this would have caused Laelia terrible distress. He wondered if Laelia had spoken comfort to her daughter or if she'd simply held her. Laelia would have dealt better than him with Solana's pain.

Cadmus found himself gazing across the room at a blank light blue wall. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen. _He_ was supposed to grieve the loss of a spouse way before his daughter. Anger flared up again in his mind. What had Garrus been thinking, taking Arrian on a call and a dangerous one at that? How could that ever make sense to him? Cadmus didn't know how long he spent contemplating Garrus' fatal error and Solana's deep grief. However long, a quiet voice eventually broke his pensiveness.

"Cadmus? Cadmus…"

Cadmus turned his head to the bed. Laelia was trying to sit up. Cadmus held out his hand to help her push back against the wall for support. After he did so, Laelia continued to grasp his hand tightly and looked him straight in the eyes. Her own blue depths reflected profound sorrow.

"Don't make assumptions. You don't know for certain what happened."

Cadmus' stomach clenched. Laelia had always seen through him. She'd accurately guessed at his thoughts as she had on many occasions. He knew how much she loved her son. Even so, he didn't like how she dared to excuse their son.

"I know enough," Cadmus muttered.

Laelia sighed and quietly objected. "You know only one fact…you don't know the details."

"Do _you_ know the details? What did Solana tell you to expunge her brother's part in this?"

Laelia let Cadmus' hand go and folded hers in her lap. "She only knows Garrus took Arrian on a call and he died, killed by a krogan. That's all. She cut the transmission before he could tell her more."

That sounded like Solana. Cadmus wasn't surprised that she'd cut Garrus off.

Laelia had let go of Cadmus' hand, but hadn't shifted her direct gaze. A pleading had overlaid the grief in her eyes. "I may not think as well as I used to," she said slowly, "but I do know that you shouldn't make a judgment until you know everything…That's what a detective as successful as my husband would do anyway."

Cadmus broke his gaze with Laelia, looking back at the wall. Yes, he knew one fact—Arrian had been on a call with Garrus, but that was enough for him to charge Garrus guilty. There was no excuse for Arrian being on a call no matter what Garrus said.

Laelia let out a soft breath of air. Cadmus heard a rustle of sheets and then her hand was squeezing his arm. "Being angry isn't going to help our children. This could destroy them both, Solana _and_ Garrus. For me, Cadmus…Will you hear him out first for me?"

Cadmus turned his eyes back to his begging wife. He swallowed the anger in his throat. His eyes flickered downwards to the braces Laelia wore on her legs. Even with them she struggled to walk these days. She thought slower at times as well, but her wisdom was still sound. He _knew_ what she was saying was right. He was just trying to make his emotions give into it. Her appeal to herself pushed him in the correct direction. "I'll ask him to tell me in detail first…for your sake."

* * *

The days awaiting Garrus' arrival crawled by. Even with cases to draw his attention, Cadmus couldn't keep his thoughts away from the tragedy of the Vakarian family—_and_ the Sophuses. He'd contacted Arrian's family to offer his condolences and received a thankful reply. As much as he mourned Arrian, he couldn't imagine what Arrian's parents were facing, the loss of a child who shouldn't have left them before their own deaths. Granted, turians handled death with less spectacle than other races. Turians didn't wail and lament in public. It was said a dead turian wouldn't want those he left behind to bemoan his fate. A true turian would expect those close to him to carry on in order to leave him a legacy of strength.

Typically, Cadmus followed the norms no matter his personal feelings. He didn't shed a tear for Arrian, but spoke of his accomplishments when anyone inquired. Solana, on the other hand, wasn't fairing well. She'd begun to neglect her internship, spending more of her time sequestered inside her own home or visiting theirs to sit by Laelia's bedside for hours on end. Her public face was calm, detached, but her bitter grief exposed itself in private—her replies came sharp and stilted and her eyes were often misted.

As for Garrus, Cadmus had sent him multiple messages, but had only received one short reply—_I will explain in person._ Cadmus had also contacted Venari by e-mail. Venari, too, replied with no elaboration: _I do not intend to comment on family matters. You must rely on Garrus for information. It is the best course of action._ These messages frustrated Cadmus. He had nothing to go on and was forced to wait for his son to show up and make his excuses. He didn't like being at the mercy of Garrus whom he considered to have a bias in the whole affair.

So it was that Cadmus found himself at a spaceport along with the Sophuses with no answers, but plenty assumptions. All the way to the port he'd repeatedly reminded himself he'd promised Laelia he'd give Garrus a chance to explain—for whatever that was worth. Solana didn't come with him. She hadn't left her home for two days now. She'd donned dark blue, the appropriate color for mourning, representative of shed turian blood, a symbol of loss, but also of power. She would wait at home to receive Arrian's body and proceed with preparations for his funeral. Laelia had departed with the nurse to join her daughter at the same time Cadmus left for the spaceport.

The ship from C-Sec landed and after several passengers disembarked, the cargo hold was opened and a silver oblong casket was escorted down its ramp and directed to the Sophus family. Cadmus stood at attention as it passed in front of him. He spied Garrus at the top of the ramp, far enough away that Cadmus couldn't read anything in his gaze. The Sophuses took possession of the casket and carried it away. Cadmus waited for his son.

Garrus, dressed in C-Sec armor shined to the hilt, slowly descended the ramp, his travel bag in hand. He paused at the end of the ramp and fixed his gaze on Cadmus. Cadmus saw pain in those blue-gray eyes, pain and…guilt? Cadmus said nothing, not trusting himself to keep his promise if he spoke first. He simply gestured for Garrus to follow him and walked back to the speeder, the plodding footfalls of his son behind him.

Cadmus had driven to the port himself. He didn't want anyone else to be privy to his conversation with Garrus. This was a private matter. He took the driver's seat and Garrus settled into the passenger's seat. He pulled out and headed to Solana's home. For several miles, neither father nor son spoke. The tension was palpable. Finally, Garrus broke the silence.

"I assume you want the details as your messages demanded."

Cadmus tightened his jaw and nodded.

Garrus stared out the window. "I'd like Sol to be present."

Cadmus looked sideways at his son. He wanted Garrus to spill his guts _now_, but Garrus' sense of protocol was all too appropriate. The rest of the drive was made in silence. By the time they reached Solana's modern home, the Sophuses had arrived and gone. The casket had been left under a canopy in the side yard. Cadmus had always found the turian way of approaching death commendable. They weren't afraid of it. They displayed it for all to see.

Cadmus pulled into the drive and then he and Garrus entered the house. Laelia met them at the door, having seen them drive up, her turian nurse at her side. She embraced Garrus and spoke gently into his ear. Cadmus held back. He didn't know what she told him, but Garrus' eyes softened and he blinked rapidly. Laelia led them with halting steps into the living room where Solana sat bolt upright in a chair. She gazed out the window at the casket under the canopy. Laelia settled onto the couch and waved her nurse away. The nurse left the room. Garrus sat next to his mother. Cadmus chose a chair slightly apart from the gathering. He had decided it best to observe and not speak for the time being.

Garrus cleared his throat. "Sol…I'm sorry," he started. Solana didn't react. She continued to stare out the window as if she hadn't heard a word. Garrus looked to his mother who put a hand on his shoulder and nodded, encouraging him to go on. "Sol…You deserve to know what happened." Garrus wrung his hands and looked down at his knees, Cadmus assumed reliving the events that had transpired. "Arrian and I met up for lunch. Somehow we got talking about C-Sec. He said he was interested in how it worked, what it looked like from the inside. He asked if he could shadow me…"

Cadmus narrowed his eyes at Garrus. Was he blaming his brother-in-law for this?

Garrus' eyes briefly flashed over to Cadmus, then to Solana, then back to his knees. "I said he should ask my superior."

Cadmus' mandibles closed taut against his jaw. Garrus should have told Arrian "no."

Garrus continued. "My chief allowed him to come on my next call, an arrest of the leader of a gang of krogan. We went in, but were attacked on the way. All hell broke loose. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but he was shot…Sol, I got the krogan who killed him. He's dead."

Solana hadn't moved an inch the entire time Garrus spoke. She didn't move now.

Garrus looked at Cadmus again. "My superior's been relieved of duty." Cadmus hid his emotion. Did Garrus think that made everything better? Even now, Cadmus recognized that Pallin had made the correct "turian" decision—Garrus' chief was directly responsible, not Garrus. He had authorized Arrian to go on the call. But that didn't change the fact that Garrus should have said something.

Garrus rolled his eyes back over to his sister. His voice came out in a whisper. "I blame myself, Sol. I'm so sorry."

Solana suddenly stood, turned on her heel and faced Garrus. "You've explained. You can go now." She marched quickly past the couch, out of the living room and down the hall to her bedroom. Cadmus heard the door open and shut.

Silence reigned for several moments, but Laelia eventually reached out and squeezed Garrus' hand. "I think it best you go home. I'll stay a little longer."

Garrus rose and Cadmus followed suit, but Garrus looked over at him. "I'll walk home. See you later." He left alone. Cadmus looked down at Laelia.

"It's not his fault, Cadmus," Laelia said firmly.

"He said he blames himself," Cadmus pointed out.

"Of course he does!" Laelia exclaimed. "He would. He takes everything that goes wrong on his shoulders, even things he doesn't have to. He always has. I don't know why you've never seen it."

Cadmus bristled, but didn't respond.

Laelia sighed. "I don't want to argue with you. This isn't the time to do so. He's hurt just as much as Solana. Just know that."

Cadmus reached down to pat his wife's shoulder, then walked to the door to head home. She was probably right. Garrus was hurting. But in Cadmus' estimation, it was hurt deserved.

* * *

When Cadmus arrived home, Garrus wasn't there. Of course, Cadmus had taken the speeder and so reached the house long before his son would. Alone in the house, Cadmus didn't know what to do with himself. He'd experienced the loss of officers on the Citadel over the years, though none on his personal teams. His parents and Laelia's were still living. He'd never faced a loss like this before, someone so close to his family. Actually, he hadn't known Arrian well, hardly at all, still he had appreciated what the turian meant for Solana. Cadmus felt an emptiness he couldn't explain, compounded by bitter disappointment and betrayal aimed at Garrus.

Cadmus forwent his computer, instead climbing the stairs to the combat room. He paced himself through the stances of several different combat styles, trying to focus his mind away from his emotions for a brief while. He concentrated only on the stances, feeling his muscles tighten and release with ease. Garrus kept popping into his mind unbidden. A tumult of lectures coursed through Cadmus' mind, how he would inform Garrus of his disappointment, censure his reckless actions, and deride his luck that Pallin had "let him off the hook." After a long time, the front door opened and Cadmus broke off, his mind a whirl with words. He marched into the hall and down the stairs, intending to give Garrus a sound piece of his mind, but when he reached the bottom he saw only Laelia.

Laelia stared at him. "Are you alright?"

Cadmus took several deep breaths. "Practicing combat."

"Oh." Laelia sighed heavily. "I need to lie down."

Cadmus knew this day, this week, had been too much for her. Her thought capacity had been drained and she desperately needed mental rejuvenation. Cadmus held onto her arm and helped her walk to her room. The stairs had become so difficult, Cadmus had insisted that the downstairs guest room be modified for Laelia's purposes. As he helped her into bed, Laelia laid back and closed her eyes, but spoke a command quite forcefully, albeit stuntingly.

"When Garrus comes home…send him to me."

Cadmus knew what she was trying to do—get him to herself so Cadmus didn't have the chance to light into him all at once. She also knew he wouldn't refuse her, not in her state. "I will," Cadmus acquiesced as he quietly left the bedroom.

But Garrus didn't come home. Evening faded into night, night stretched into day and still, he didn't return. Laelia began to worry and Cadmus was considering contacting security friends when a message showed up on his omni-tool.

_Mom, Dad, I should have sent this last night. I forgot. I'm trekking. Don't look for me until the funeral. I'm alright. Garrus._

Cadmus shared the message with Laelia who was relieved that Garrus was okay, but anxious what his staying away meant. Cadmus _knew_ what it meant. It meant Garrus was scouring his conscience, forcing himself to face facts. It meant he'd gone to the mountains like he had as a child, seeking solitude and a wilderness that brought a turian to the end of himself where nothing but truth was left. At least, that was what Cadmus hoped it meant. The only other option was that Garrus was a coward, afraid to own up, running away and refusing to acknowledge the truth like a man.

* * *

Turian funerals were quickly carried out, the dead not allowed to linger for long. Two days after Arrian's corpse arrived on planet, it was set on its bier. In that time, friends arrived, friends of Arrian and his family, friends of Solana. Cadmus' mother sent her regrets. She no longer lived on Palaven. Cadmus' father had long ago been transferred to another colony and as always, his elder brother followed. His sister still traversed the galaxy on various archaeological missions. With Cadmus on the Citadel, his mother had felt little tied her to Palaven and she followed her husband off world. For this reason, none of his immediate family could be present, which didn't surprise or bother Cadmus.

Cadmus and Laelia descended on Solana's home early in the day to help with preparations. At least, Laelia helped. Cadmus found his skills ill suited to the needs of the day. He spent most of the time hiding away and tapping on his tool out of sight of Arrian's parents. He wasn't sure how they viewed the Vakarian family now. They had been cordial even in their grief, but one never knew what brewed under the surface. He didn't want to be an added source of pain for them.

By late evening, those who had come to honor Arrian's life gathered around the bier dressed in dark blue with heads bowed in silence. Garrus still hadn't appeared. Cadmus had begun to worry he wouldn't come at all, that he'd add insult to injury by staying away from his brother-in-law's funeral. When the time had come to escort Solana and Arrian's family outside, Cadmus stood by his daughter's side. Just as when Garrus had spoken to her, she remained completely detached as if she wasn't even present, her spirit fleeing her body, unable to endure the blow she had been dealt. Her vacant eyes pierced Cadmus' heart. And yet, she held her head high and exited to the front lawn. Cadmus expected her to continue on to the bier, but she stopped after a few steps, her head swiveling slightly to the right. Then she turned back and walked resolutely on.

Cadmus, curious as to what had drawn Solana's attention, glanced as he passed. Garrus stood to the side of the walkway. He looked haggard and run down, eyes weary. He wore appropriate clothing, a dark blue suit, but it fit him loosely. Cadmus guessed his time in the wilderness had been spent without food and possibly without water. Laelia gently pushed her nurse away when she reached Garrus. She gripped his arm and pulled him to her side, forcing him to aid her. He fell into step with the rest of the group. Cadmus noticed that Arrian's parents didn't even acknowledge Garrus' presence.

Guests parted for the family of the deceased who joined them in the solemn circle. Then, as if on cue, the guests began to speak, not all it once, but one by one and each uttering not more than a single word. Each word called aloud was chosen by the guest to summarize Arrian's life. Cadmus listened intently, hearing with pride words like "duty," "dignity," "wisdom," "verity," "concord" and "forethought." After the guests, the family spoke. Cadmus called out "reverence" at his turn, Garrus "serenity." The last to speak was Solana. There were a few seconds of silence and then Solana's voice, strong yet hushed, uttered "love." Cadmus observed a ripple of movement from the crowd. "Love" was a word most likely none of them had heard at a funeral. It was too personal, too transparent. A spouse might say "faithful" or "gentle," even "caring," but not "love." Of course, turian spouses at times loved each other, but love was considered a private matter. Still, Cadmus felt Solana's declaration suitable. She and Arrian had always been open in their affection. Why would that change at Arrian's funeral?

After the statements of life, Solana and Arrian's parents and siblings walked to a blazing torch that stood to the left of the bier. From the ground they picked up small, cylindrical tubes filled with oil. Each in turn they lit their tubes, then circled close to the bier. The flaming light illuminated Arrian's corpse for all to see. He seemed to lay in repose, only asleep. Indeed, the blue sheet that draped him made it seem he simply slept on a strange bed of kindling. Arrian's father thrust his tube into the wooden shafts supporting his son's body. Then his mother and siblings followed suit, ending with Solana. In only moments, Arrian's body was being consumed, licked by the flames pushing upwards to the night sky and dancing hectically to a strong breeze.

Then the singing began, heavy and deep at first, yet rising with every word. The crowd lifted up their voices, harmonizing the turian imperial anthem, "Die for the Cause." The song was supposed to cause the melding of the deceased with the turian spirits of long past. Of course, this was only legend, not a fact as far as Cadmus believed. As the song ended, loud and triumphant, Cadmus stared across the burning pyre at Solana. His muscles tensed. She had returned to her body. He knew by her eyes she was present, but he didn't have words for what he saw there, sorrow and anguish far beyond anything he would ever be able to describe.

* * *

Three days after the funeral, Cadmus awoke early morning to find his omni-tool vibrating. He yawned, picked it up and read the message.

_I want to talk to you when you wake up. Laelia._

Cadmus dragged himself out of bed. Even though it wouldn't have scarred anyone to see Cadmus in his pajamas, he dutifully refreshed and dressed in a dark green suit before answering Laelia's summons. He proceeded downstairs, stopped by the kitchen to cut up some fruit for her, then made his way to her bedroom. The door opened immediately as he reached it. Laelia was sitting up in bed, her head turned away from the door, staring out the window at the rising sun. When she heard the door, she looked his way. Cadmus approached and handed her the bowl of fruit before sitting in the chair next to the bed.

Laelia stabbed one of the hard pieces with a talon and put it in her mouth. After she swallowed, she said quietly, "Thank you."

Cadmus, who had silently watched her eat, echoed her low tone. "You don't have to thank me when I do things for you all the time. It's what I should do."

Laelia's eyes rose to his face. "All the same, I'm grateful." She leaned back against the wall and ate a couple more pieces before saying, "You sacrificed your career for me. There isn't a day I don't remember that."

Cadmus sighed. He reached out a hand and set it on her knee. "It's _not_ a sacrifice. I don't want to be anywhere else than with you now."

Laelia placed her hand on top of Cadmus', then looked him straight in the eye. "I don't want them to hate each other. They aren't going to have a relationship left if we don't intervene."

Cadmus pulled his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. Of course, Laelia meant Garrus and Solana. Two days had passed and they hadn't said a word to each other but that didn't mean they hadn't communicated; their behavior spoke volumes. Garrus obviously wanted, and presumably needed, Solana's forgiveness. Solana cut him with daggers thrown from her eyes and refused to engage him in any kind of conversation. Cadmus thought the situation might have been better if Solana had stayed in her own home, but she'd abandoned it. She didn't have the funds to keep the house, not with her internship a non-paying position. Cadmus had offered to pay for it entirely so she could own it outright, but she had declined saying they didn't know how much money they would need for Laelia's treatments over the years. So Solana had shut the house down and moved back to her childhood home. Garrus still had a week of leave left and thus the two siblings existed in a state of constant tension under one roof.

"I don't know that it's our place to interfere," Cadmus said.

Laelia's eyes hardened. "We're their parents. I don't care if they _are_ adults. They still must listen to us, to you."

Cadmus tightened his mandibles. He didn't relish the idea of trying to reconcile his children. It wasn't that he didn't want them to get along; he just didn't trust himself to interact well with them. He had promised Laelia he'd listen to Garrus. He did. But his opinion hadn't changed and it had taken all his self-control not to launch into a tirade against his son for her sake.

"Cadmus, please," Laelia pleaded. "I don't know how long I have left. I don't want to die with my children like this." Laelia's eyes had misted and Cadmus' heart thumped. Her obvious distress quickened his heart. He stood.

"I'll talk to them."

"Thank you."

Cadmus leaned down, ran a gentle hand over Laelia's left mandible and exited the room, seeking his children, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

* * *

Cadmus sat behind his desk in his office facing his two children occupying seats across from him. Solana looked to the side, seemingly intently interested in an antique turian vase next to the desk. Garrus, to her left, sat stock still, his head bowed. Cadmus had asked them to follow him and they had. He'd asked them to sit and they'd obeyed, but every acquiescence to his commands was carried out in stony silence.

Cadmus let out a noisy breath. "I wanted to talk to you both about your mother."

Garrus looked up. "Is she worse?"

Cadmus placed his hands on the desk, linking his talons. "It's not her health. It's her worries." Cadmus looked to his daughter and spoke as tenderly as he could. "Solana, your mother is devastated by your loss as am I. You shouldn't have had to face this for a long time." Garrus shifted slightly in his seat. Cadmus went on. "You still have a duty to Arrian." At the mention of her deceased husband's name, Solana turned her head to her father, eyes cold. "From what I knew of him, he wouldn't approve you hating your brother."

"I never said I hated Garrus." Solana's voice was tensely soft.

Cadmus' mandibles flared. "You've never needed to say how you felt. Your mannerisms have always given you away."

Solana clenched her jaw and tapped her foot on the floor.

"The point is, your mother isn't well and you are both contributing to her distressed mental state. She's not going to rest until she senses resolution between you two."

"Sol…" Garrus spoke. "Sol, I don't know what to say to you."

Solana stopped tapping her foot and jerked her head over to Garrus. "There isn't anything you _can_ say. I don't want your apologies or excuses. I don't want to hear your voice ever again."

"Solana!" Cadmus reprimanded, his voice intense, but not sharp.

Solana snapped her head to her father. She breathed in and out quickly and looked back to Garrus. "But I suppose I have no choice, so fine, I'll be civil to you, Garrus. We'll talk about the weather and music and sports and mom. I'll do it for our mother, but _not_ for you." Solana abruptly stood and exited the room, even when Cadmus called after her.

Cadmus looked to his son and Garrus met his eyes. Cadmus spoke firmly. "_This_ is where your thinking leads you. You've always complained that the rules get in the way. What about this one? Did breaking it get you what you wanted?"

Garrus blinked his eyes once, then let out a low breath. "I expected you to say something earlier than this. It must have been killing you to keep it in for so long."

Disrespect laced Garrus' tone. Cadmus tightened his jaw. "You think _this_ is the time to challenge me?"

Garrus shook his head. "I'm not trying to attack you, dad. I've just been waiting for you to pronounce me irresponsible and rash."

"Aren't you?"

Garrus lowered his eyes. "_I_ didn't authorize Arrian to come along."

Cadmus guffawed. "But you let him. You didn't say anything against it."

Garrus spoke without looking up. "Arrian was so eager to see C-Sec. He went on and on about studying its origins, how he wanted to see it up close. I just…I didn't want to disappoint him."

"You just wanted to kill him," Cadmus came back sarcastically.

Garrus lifted his head, his eyes hard. "You _know_ I didn't want that. Yes, I knew the rule. That's why I told Arrian to go up the chain of command."

"He went because you told him to."

Garrus let out a harsh breath. "I suggested it. I didn't tell him to."

Cadmus growled deeply in his throat. "All you have are excuses."

Garrus suddenly slapped his right palm against his thigh. "So what do you want, dad? Do you want me to follow all the rules or obey my superiors? Which is it? Because in this case you can't have it both ways."

Cadmus ground his teeth. In hindsight, the answer was obvious: follow the rules. But turians were expected to follow their superiors without question. "To disobey is to dishonor" as the phrase went. Cadmus said nothing, momentarily stumped. Garrus' eyes lit up in triumph. He knew his father had no satisfactory answer.

"It doesn't matter how you answer," Garrus said. "You're doomed either way. I've been in C-Sec long enough to figure that out."

At the mention of C-Sec, Cadmus felt his muscles tense up in anger. "So you think C-Sec is useless, is that it?"

Garrus sighed. "It's not useless, but it could be more effective, stop letting criminals slip away because it's afraid to get a nosebleed now and then."

"And was Arrian a nosebleed?" Cadmus came back angrily.

Garrus tilted his head. "What? No, that's not what I meant. I was thinking of a case, a doctor…never mind. The fact is, dad, that if C-Sec had done its job, arrested the krogan when we first had him, all this could have been avoided. We let him go—not enough evidence to satisfy the higher ups."

Cadmus felt his jaw ache he'd been clenching his teeth so tightly. "If you hadn't let Arrian go along in the first place, he'd be alive."

Garrus swallowed and stood, ignoring Cadmus' statement and looking his father straight in the eye. "I'm leaving tonight. I got my leave shortened. It's better for Solana. She doesn't need me here right now. I'm going to go see mom and head to the port. Bye, dad."

Cadmus watched his son exit the room, then slumped in his seat. He felt drained of all energy, his mind a jumble of conflicted emotions and thoughts. But over it all was the same barely controlled rage, the feeling that he'd raised a son incapable of doing the right thing.

* * *

Cadmus rolled into bed at the end of a long day. With Garrus out of the house, the tension was eased, though not non-existent. There was still Solana, in grief in her room, either alone or with Laelia by her side. She'd emerged in the evening, not to eat, but to inform Cadmus that she'd given up her internship. He'd balked and tried to talk her out of it, but her stubbornness rose to the surface, even sharper on top of her grief. She wouldn't listen to reason and insisted that she had nothing left, that she didn't want a job at the scholarium, not when Arrian couldn't be there, too. She'd decided she'd stay home and be Laelia's nurse. Her mother needed her and she'd walk by her side every step of the way.

Cadmus stared into the darkness of the room. In less than a year, the Vakarian family had self-destructed and what angered him most was he couldn't fix it. There was nothing he could possibly do to right it. He couldn't reach into Laelia's body and heal it and he couldn't bring Arrian back to life. The shambles that was his family would remain so and Cadmus didn't know how to handle that.

He'd gratefully slipped into bed, wanting to escape the turmoil of his thoughts for a blessed seven hours of sleep. He hadn't closed his eyes but a few minutes and his tool vibrated. He groaned, but grabbed it. It might be Laelia. It wasn't. A video message had come in for him—from Viator. Cadmus tapped to play. Viator appeared on the screen and the jerky flapping of his mandibles made it clear he wasn't happy.

"Cadmus, I decided to send this by video rather than call you because I didn't want any interruptions and I know you would argue me. I've always respected you, you know that, and I've never said much about how you handle things, let you be you. Well, I had to say something this time.

"Garrus is on his way home early. He called me. I can't believe you let him go like that. And before you think he's run and tattled on you, he didn't say much, but by his demeanor I know you must have let him have it. Well, _I_ know what happened and he's innocent. He did what he should have, but you've got him convinced he's responsible. He can't ever be enough for you, can he? He was grief-stricken when Arrian died. Did he tell you that Arrian died in his arms? He was desperately trying to get to a medical center. Did you even _think_ about what that did to him? He had to feel Arrian go limp in his arms, watch him swallow blood and know that Solana's love had died in front of his eyes. How do you think he feels? Guilty and he's not."

Viator had been speaking faster and louder the longer the video went on. "All you're doing, Cadmus, is heaping the guilt on him. You could have shown him at least a little compassion, couldn't you? You're all duty, but let me tell you, duty and honor without grace will kill a person, stifle him into nothing. I'm amazed Garrus hasn't broken, that he's even coming back to C-Sec with what you've done. He's got resilience I don't even have. He's so committed to justice, to saving the innocent, he won't let even you get to him. He's trying, trying to be the best he can here and you could encourage that even a little."

Viator took a shaky breath, then shook two fingers at the camera. "If you aren't careful, you're going to lose him for good, Cadmus. You push him away and he might never come back." The video ended.

Cadmus' lungs ached as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Who was Viator to tell him anything about his son? He hadn't even raised a turian child. He had no idea what he was talking about. Didn't he understand that someone had to hold Garrus accountable? If it wasn't going to be Venari or Viator, then it had to be his father.

Cadmus slammed his tool down on the bedside stand and rolled over in the sheets. He closed his eyes, shutting out Laelia's illness, Solana's grief, Garrus' failure. But try as he might, he couldn't shut out Viator's righteous voice screaming in the depths of his soul. He fought it for hours and eventually sleep overcame his disquiet. In the morning, he would rise and convince himself that nothing Viator had said had been rational, that Viator's video message was a typical emotional outburst, something easily discounted in the face of insurmountable evidence to the contrary.


	29. Spectres

"I appreciate you giving me your time, Cadmus," Arsenius said gratefully.

Cadmus smiled at his old friend. "How could I deny the Primarch?"

Arsenius chuckled on the comm screen. "Three years and I'm still not used to that title."

"I always knew you'd be Primarch."

"I suspected it myself, but…I didn't want to say it too much."

Cadmus grinned. "Arrogance isn't your style."

"I'm glad you see it that way. Sometimes I think I'm not humble enough."

Cadmus, standing in front of the screen with his hands linked behind his back, rocked back and forth on his feet. "You're a good Primarch. We're honored to have you."

Arsenius raised appreciative mandibles, but said, "I do have my critics."

"_Everyone_ has his critics. The mark of a good turian is he listens to them, weighs their complaints, and objectively decides which matter and which are nothing but empty air."

Arsenius nodded and then smiled. "Maybe _you_ should have been Primarch."

Cadmus laughed loudly. "I don't have the stamina to juggle politics all day."

Arsenius echoed Cadmus' laughter. "It's not so bad once you understand the game. It's combat with words more than fists, but it is quite similar…How's Laelia?"

Cadmus brought his hands out from behind his back and folded his arms against his chest. The change in subject had been abrupt, but not unexpected. He had guessed Arsenius would inquire sooner or later. His friend had called seeking Cadmus' advice on a new security measure for Palaven and they had finished their discussion, opening the way for more personal subjects. Cadmus had been surprised, and pleased, to hear from Arsenius. So much time had passed since they last saw each other. Nevertheless, he found Arsenius the same. They easily fell back into their friendship, as if the years faded away and they had seen each other just the day before.

"She's holding on," Cadmus answered quietly.

"It's not fair for her to face this. It's not fair to you either." Arsenius' eyes radiated empathy for his friend.

"We can't expect life to be fair," Cadmus noted, but inside he agreed. Laelia of all turians shouldn't be wasting away day by day. In reality, she was doing worse. Walking had become a continual struggle; she couldn't take a step without help. She tired frequently and rested much of the day. Cadmus and Solana made sure to help her walk as much as Dr. Tayan said she needed to, but it was difficult making her, not because she fought them, but because she hated being a "burden" to them.

"No, we can't. But that doesn't mean we can't detest what it takes from us."

Cadmus nodded slowly. He did detest it—every second of Laelia's struggle was a second too much.

"Keep strong, Cadmus."

"I am. What about Thelie and your children?"

Arsenius leaned back and grinned. "Thelie's enjoying courting and bantering with our formidable leaders. I swear she was made to be a Primarch's wife. The children are all over the place. I think you know Calix and Erebus are in Blackwatch."

Cadmus nodded. Blackwatch was the turian elite of the military, specially trained operatives with combat skills that couldn't be rivaled.

"Gyia's in the marines. Bresien is in your old haunts. Planetary security." Arsenius raised his eyes, thinking. "And…the other twins—Idestie is now an architect on Galatana, Tycho a medic there. Verus is an officer in the army. Might follow his brothers and try to join Blackwatch…And then there's Dulcia. She's got an interest in humans. She's studying human literature and its similarity to turian myth." Arsenius smiled in amusement.

"I take it you don't consider that worth her time."

Arsenius' mandibles flexed in a shrug. "I think our children view humans with more interest than we do. They don't know exactly what humanity is capable of. The turians who died in the Relay 314 Incident mean nothing to our youth."

Cadmus thought carefully. He didn't need to antagonize Arsenius, but… "I've dealt with humans on the Citadel. Some are honorable. Some are not."

Arsenius' mandibles pulsed in and out again. "Perhaps. But they gain too much power each day. They have no idea how to use it. Always pushing for more than they should have."

"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what comes of their advancement," Cadmus spoke diplomatically.

Arsenius smiled, catching Cadmus' desire to avoid an argument. "Indeed. I can't harp too much on humans anyway, can I, what with the turian-human military exchange at work."

Cadmus supposed Arsenius had to support the exchange whether he liked it or not. He hadn't been Primarch when the approval for the exchange came down. Humans regularly came to Palaven to train under turian officers and turians made their way to the human station Arcturus for the same purpose. The exchange had started when a turian general and a human general had been marooned together on the desert world Helmede. They were the only survivors of a crashed transport. Together they had managed to face the harsh elements and eek by for three months until they were rescued. Their experience, and supposed friendship, had inspired them to form the exchange to heal the wounds between the two militarily strongest races in the galaxy.

"Anyway," Arsenius went on, "Thank you again for your help and time. I don't care if you _are _retired. I know taking time for me is time away from your wife."

Cadmus demurred with a bow of the head. "It is my obligation to aid the State as asked."

Arsenius chuckled. "Cadmus Vakarian, loyal to a fault. I don't think Palaven has birthed a more perfect turian."

Cadmus smiled. "Except for you."

"Well, maybe that's true. Farewell, Cadmus."

"Good-bye, Arsenius." The screen faded to black. Cadmus left his office, heading to Laelia's bedroom, reminiscing over thoughts of Arsenius and the carefree times of days past. What he wouldn't give for one of those days now.

When Cadmus reached Laelia's bedroom, the door slid open. Solana sat next to her bed, her elbow on the armrest of a chair and her chin in the palm of her hand. She looked up when he entered. "Dad," she spoke softly, glancing over at her mother sleeping peacefully.

"You're home early," Cadmus whispered as he walked across the room, pulling up a chair and settling into it next to her.

"A successful case. Chief decided to let us go home to celebrate." Solana looked to her mother wistfully. Cadmus read her thoughts. What celebration could there be coming home to a disease like this? What celebration could there be when she was still a widow?

Almost two years had passed since Arrian's funeral. The time had been hard on Solana, her grief pronounced and solitary. She lived on Laelia's words of encouragement, but even as she did so, Laelia slipped away from her. Cadmus felt she clung to her mother as her only hope. He sympathized with her, but thought it detrimental to her recovery that she was making her mother her crutch. Since Solana refused to even discuss going back to her internship, Cadmus approached a friend, Chief Teodus Caepio. Teodus agreed to hire Solana as a secretary. It took some prodding, but Solana finally agreed to the take the job, persuaded that it would add income needed for Laelia's treatments.

Laelia had recently started a new treatment. It had limited success—it cleared her foggy mind, but it had no physical effect. Still, Laelia had lived longer than Dr. Tayan's two year prediction. Cadmus was, of course, glad for this, but now the Vakarian family played a stressful waiting game. They had no idea if or when Laelia would succumb to the Syndrome.

"You can go rest. I'll wait here until she wakes up."

Solana opened her mouth to protest, but catching Cadmus' commanding eye, relented, nodding and exiting the room. Cadmus sat still, contemplating his wife. Time had been kind to her at least in beauty. She looked the same as their wedding day. It wasn't really true. She showed the signs of aging, but he didn't notice. When he looked at her, he saw his determined, dutiful, stately wife, and felt the joy she had been to him over the years. _We can't lose her._ Cadmus didn't know how he could have handled Solana's deep sorrow without Laelia. He didn't have the words to say to their daughter or the comforting arms to hold her. Laelia was still the foundation of their family no matter how ill she was. Laelia had been the force behind Solana's determination to keep living after the loss of her husband.

And then there was Garrus. Laelia was constantly trying to mend the bond between her son and her husband. Cadmus tried to put away the tension between himself and his son when Garrus was present. He'd come home three times on leave since the funeral. They'd talked of nothing serious—Garrus avoiding sharing his opinions of or cases in C-Sec, Cadmus pushing down any lectures that surfaced in his mind for Laelia's sake. Cadmus had hoped their civility towards each other would fool Laelia, but it hadn't. She knew their relationship was rocky and often asked if Cadmus had heard from Garrus, a hint that he should keep in contact with his son. Cadmus did call Garrus now and then, but the conversations were short, rarely more than "Hello, how are you?" "Fine." "Good-bye."

Cadmus thought of Garrus now as he stared at Laelia. Garrus looked more like her, he thought, though Laelia claimed the opposite, that Garrus had his father's strong jaw and piercing eyes. Garrus wasn't in Zakera anymore. He'd been transferred by Venari into a new force sourced in the Academy. Venari had seen the need for officers who worked Citadel wide rather than confined to a Ward or the Presidium. These officers could link crime across the station, scour _all_ reports and track crime down more easily. Garrus had been promoted to this force, now a lead investigator. Cadmus thought the new force an excellent idea. Venari had been one of the most innovative Executors in the history of C-Sec, streamlining it and making it more effective by the day. Cadmus wondered if C-Sec's "rigidness" continued to annoy Garrus or if his new position afforded him more freedom and eliminated his negative opinions. Since they avoided any discussion of C-Sec, Cadmus didn't know for sure.

Cadmus reached over and snatched a data pad off a night side stand by Laelia's bed. It was often this way. Whenever Garrus came to mind, Cadmus felt uneasy and soon turned his attention to something else, covering over thoughts of his son. He tapped the pad, bringing it to life, and scanned through Palaven news. Nothing interesting. He sighed, but then a new article title popped up on the screen: _Humans Claim Geth Attack on Eden Prime_. Cadmus raised his mandibles. Geth? They hadn't been seen beyond the Perseus Veil in 200 years. Cadmus read through the article. The author obviously didn't believe the human claims, disparaging the human tendency to jump to conclusions at every new thing they encountered. What had happened on Eden Prime wasn't clear. There _had_ been an attack, but who or what no one was sure at present. Cadmus figured in a day another article would appear, clarifying what had really happened.

"What has so captured my husband's attention?"

Cadmus looked up at Laelia's soft voice. She lay with her eyes open, though her drooping mandibles revealed she was still tired. "Just a news report. Humans seeing enemies in the shadows again."

Laelia smiled slightly and patted the bed, indicating she wanted her husband near. Cadmus stood and slid in next to her, laying flat on his back. Laelia rolled on her side and put her head on his chest. "You can't really blame them," she said. "This galaxy is still so new to them. They must view it as primarily dangerous."

"It's not so new anymore," Cadmus protested, folding an arm over his chest and placing a hand on Laelia's shoulder. "They've been part of us for 25 years now."

"That's not long when you think of galactic history."

"True," Cadmus assented, paused, then said, "I was just talking to Arsenius."

"Oh. How is he?"

"Fine. His family, too…Arsenius thinks the humans are too power hungry."

"And what do you think?"

Cadmus sighed loudly. "I've gotten used to them. Still, they are ambitious, maybe too much for their own good. They've wanted a seat on the Council ever since they knew it existed. It's incongruous for them to make such demands. As you note, they know little of the whole galaxy. We have no reason to trust them with the weight of such authority."

Cadmus felt Laelia nod her head. "The Council certainly won't let them have a seat any time soon."

Cadmus patted her shoulder. "That's why it's so frustrating to Arsenius I guess. They won't give up. Just keep pestering the Council to give in."

Laelia snuggled against her husband. "Have you heard from Garrus?"

Cadmus closed his eyes momentarily. "Not recently."

"Is Solana…"

"Home," Cadmus informed her.

"I want my family back, Cadmus. I want things to be like they were."

Cadmus sat up on his elbows, looking down at the top of Laelia's head. "It's not good for you to think such upsetting thoughts."

Laelia rolled back over so she could look up into Cadmus' eyes. "Work has been your life. All of you have been mine. You left C-Sec in order when you retired. I need to leave my family intact."

Cadmus' mandibles flapped and he spoke quietly. "Wounds don't heal overnight."

"It's been two years."

"Some wounds don't heal for years."

"Talk to him, Cadmus. Talk to Solana."

Cadmus bit his tongue. As Laelia's health deteriorated she became more and more obsessed about the state of their family. Problem was, Cadmus didn't see any sense in trying to make everyone get along. They were doing the best they could. It was enough for now and Laelia would have to make peace with that. But he didn't have the heart to tell her this. "You know I do."

"I know," Laelia sighed.

"Nothing's wrong with you and I," Cadmus reminded her, sitting up on the bed and swinging his feet over the side.

"Yes. I'm glad for that."

"Now," Cadmus spoke, reaching down so Laelia could grasp his hands. "It's time for a walk."

Laelia groaned. "I know I should, but it takes so much effort, some days I just want to skip it."

"Not while I'm around," Cadmus declared, pulling her to the side of the bed, up onto her feet and putting an arm around her waist, aiding her across the room and down the hall towards the porch.

* * *

"Did you see the news?"

Cadmus looked up from his computer at Solana who had stopped in his doorway before she left for work. He shook his head.

"I have a feeling it's all they'll be talking about today at work, each offering his own erroneous theories."

"Well…what is it?"

Solana pointed to the computer. "Eden Prime. The geth are back. Arrian would have been fascinated." She turned and walked away. After a few seconds, the front door swooshed open and shut. Cadmus switched from a case file to turian news. There it was in large letters: _Geth Attackers Confirmed on Eden Prime._ Cadmus read the article with interest. The confirmation came from the Citadel Council itself. They'd had to admit the truth as the Alliance had recordings of geth shooting at Alliance troops. The human ambassador had petitioned the Council for its help and been denied. The Council blamed the humans in the event. They had chosen to settle near the Terminus Systems which were well known for their danger. They couldn't be surprised when sharks came out of shark infested waters.

Cadmus sat back in his chair, hand to a mandible, rubbing it in thought. The geth had been a menace brought on the galaxy by the quarians who had experimented too far. The Council had rightly punished them for their indiscretion, removing their embassy centuries ago. The geth had disappeared beyond the Perseus Veil after the end of their war with the quarians. Many had theorized that they had died out. Apparently, this had been untrue. Cadmus wondered how many of them still existed. And had they attacked the humans only because humanity had been so arrogant as to encroach on their space or was this the beginning of an assault on the galaxy? The Council was investigating, the article said.

Cadmus finally sat up in his chair and tapped at his computer. He'd told Laelia he'd see how Garrus was. This was as good a time to call him as any. At least he had something to say to his son, a bit of news of interest to them both. Maybe the call wouldn't be as uncomfortable this time.

The call went through, but there was no answer. Cadmus waited quite a while, then a message popped up on screen: _Investigator Garrus Vakarian is not in office. Please contact him at a later time. If you need immediate assistance, contact your local C-Sec authorities._ It was an automated message, much like one Cadmus had set on his own comm hundreds of times while on the Citadel. Usually he set it when he was out in the field working a case. He guessed Garrus was doing the same.

Cadmus turned his attention back to the security case on his computer and began to write an e-mail detailing his opinions of it. He'd done his duty. He'd tried to contact his son. If Laelia asked, he could truthfully say he'd done it and secretly be relieved he hadn't had to face the tension of another terse conversation.

* * *

The news about the geth turning up was disturbing enough, but it was nothing compared to the waves caused by the two events reported a few days later. Cadmus had fallen into a routine, always checking the news first thing in the morning. In his retirement, he hadn't yet managed to separate himself from the happenings of the Citadel. Reading through Citadel news made him feel closer to the station had been the focus of his life for so long.

So it was that Cadmus awoke one day, stretched, reached out, grabbed his data pad and tabbed over to Citadel News. The minute he set eyes on the first article, he sat up straight in bed, holding the data pad with both hands, reading the text in disbelief. Saren Arterius' Spectre status had been revoked and he was being sought for crimes against the human colony Eden Prime. There were few details, only assumptions that the Council had seen some evidence that linked Saren to the attack by the geth on Eden Prime. Cadmus thought back all those years ago when he had encountered Saren on the Citadel. He had been witness to the arrogance of the turian then and thought the Council would have to keep its eye on him. Evidently, they hadn't kept a close enough watch. Even so, Cadmus hadn't ever considered that Saren would do anything to endanger his Spectre status. Saren reveled in power. With his status revoked, he wouldn't have the authority he once had to do whatever he wanted.

Cadmus also found it interesting that Saren would strike out against a human colony. Why? Saren had told him on the Citadel that no humans were trustworthy. Perhaps his prejudice went deeper than lack of trust. Maybe he had another reason for detesting humans and had decided to act on it. Cadmus also recalled when his team had tracked down two batarians who had caged and tortured humans for their egotistical amusement. Two batarians and they had done so much damage. What could a Spectre with a geth army accomplish? Cadmus shuddered to think of the results. Then he wondered why geth in the first place. How in the world had Saren come to be in league with geth?

Cadmus didn't have time to consider an answer to his questions. His attention was immediately demanded by the article following the one on Saren. This article made him shake his head and blink his eyes. Surely he couldn't be seeing what he thought he was? First human Spectre? Cadmus read: _In other Spectre news, the Council has added the human race to the ranks of the elite agency. Sources close to the Council have revealed that Commander Jane Shepard of the Systems Alliance has been granted the status of Spectre. Ambassador Udina, the human ambassador, confirmed Commander Shepard's appointment. As readers may recall, Commander Shepard was hailed by humanity after the attack on Elysium…_ Cadmus read on, this article even harder to take in than the one on Saren. What had Arsenius said to him a week ago? That humans wouldn't give up pushing for more power? Had this been the result of human pressure on the Council? Like the previous article, this one offered few details. There was a short summary of Shepard's Alliance military career, a few quotes from Citadel citizens, most of whom greeted the news with criticism, and a final quote from the human ambassador who said it was about time humanity gained some ability to influence galactic affairs. No reason whatsoever was given why Shepard had been granted such a position in the first place.

Cadmus dropped the data pad on the bed and stared at nothing. Saren removed; Shepard grafted in. Humanity certainly hadn't done enough to be admitted to the Spectres. One of the quotes from a citizen mentioned that Shepard had been spotted on the Citadel involved in a shoot out at Chora's Den. Was that true or station gossip? If it was true, Cadmus didn't see how this Shepard could have been accepted as a Spectre by the Council. They didn't need an aggressive, unpredictable human christened with their authority.

Cadmus placed a hand to his chin, glanced down at the data pad and scrolled back up to the article on Saren. The wheels began to turn in his mind. Saren is linked to an attack on a human colony and removed from Spectre status. Commander Shepard is given Spectre status. How likely was it that these two events had happened separately? Not likely, Cadmus concluded. Had Saren's actions forced the Council into a position where they _had_ to accept a human into the Spectres? If so, Saren's prejudicial actions had back fired.

Cadmus forced himself to get out of bed, his mind occupied by the troubling news of the day. He refreshed himself, dressed and made his way down to the kitchen for breakfast. When he entered Solana was already sitting at the table in the middle of the kitchen. He walked over to a refrigeration unit to pull out leftovers from last night.

"Do you know about Saren?" Solana asked from the table.

Cadmus turned, set a bowl of cunic meat on the table and sat down. "Yes," he muttered quietly.

"Remember when we saw him on the Citadel? In the shooting range?"

Cadmus looked over at his daughter. "Yes."

"I was awed then," Solana admitted, piercing a talon into a piece of meat and placing it in her mouth, chewing briefly and swallowing. "I didn't know he was capable of such a thing."

"Apparently, he is."

"You've never liked Spectres," Solana said matter-of-factly.

"No. They have too much power," Cadmus returned.

"Is that why you stopped Garrus from becoming one?"

Cadmus stared into his daughter's eyes. Her question had come out cold, but the tone when she said her brother's name made it clear her angst wasn't directed at him, but at Garrus. "I didn't know he told you about it."

"He didn't. I read his letter from the Cohort."

Ah. The little sister had snooped. It was very like Solana. "Then how do you know…"

"He got the e-mail, you talked to him on the comm, he rejected the recommendation. I figured out what happened."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered. His intelligent and observant daughter made him feel uncomfortable. She had his own ability to put things together, but he would rather she do that with history and not family.

"Yes," Cadmus acknowledged, "I talked him out of it. He doesn't have the right character to be a Spectre."

Solana stood, having finished her meal. She marched over to the sink and dropped the bowl in. "I agree. Garrus doesn't have the character of a hundred mus."

Cadmus snapped around at her harsh description, comparing her brother to a bunch of cowardly rodents. "Your brother is still part of this family. He deserves your respect."

Solana turned around, eyes flaming. "And _you_ give that to him? You and he act like nothing's wrong when he's here, but it's obvious there _is_ something wrong. I'm tired of pretending everything is perfect with this family. I only do it for mom anyway! But most of the time I hate playing this game in front of her!"

Cadmus peered into the eyes of his angry daughter and saw the depths of a sorrow not healed. Sometimes he thought she'd gotten over Arrian's death, but then there would be an explosion of emotion as if Arrian had passed away only yesterday. "Solana…"

Solana interrupted, waving her hand in a swift downward motion. "No…I'm sorry, dad. I shouldn't have yelled like that. It's just…never mind." She rushed out of the kitchen.

Cadmus looked down at the bowl of meat. He didn't feel hungry at all. Solana was right. The Vakarian family could hardly hold itself together these days. They all put on a front for Laelia's sake. It was an honorable thing to do, but that didn't mean it was easy. Cadmus stood, walked over to the refrigeration unit, shoved the bowl back in, shut the door and leaned back against it. For a moment, Cadmus wished he'd never left the Citadel. He longed to be there, his mind on puzzles and off his family. On the Citadel he'd been successful. Here? Here he was reminded every day that his family life was a shambles.

* * *

The news of Saren's revocation and Shepard's appointment spread like wildfire over Palaven. There was predictable outrage over Saren's actions, though there were those who claimed the charges bogus. "What would a turian be doing with geth?" went the arguments in favor of Saren, at which point the arguer would look on in triumph as his foe had no answer. But the comeback was always the same: "The Council said he's guilty so he's guilty." As for Shepard, most turians were up in arms over the idea that a human dared be promoted to Spectre. Although many turians accepted the humans as equals (especially those the age of Garrus and Solana, who didn't have any memory of the Relay 314 Incident), there were many holdouts as well, those who saw humans as a no good addition to the galaxy.

Cadmus dealt with the news better than most, only because he recognized the futility of fighting against Council decisions. The Council revoked Saren's status. Cadmus assumed that was warranted and hoped they managed to arrest him before he did anything else to damage turian reputation. Already human groups like Terra Firma were spewing their hate against turians, making Saren out to be _the_ quintessential turian. Saren's actions had increased human paranoia where turians concerned and that wasn't good. Turians and humans didn't need to be at each other's throats again.

As for Shepard, the Council had decided her worthy so what could anyone say against her appointment. Cadmus didn't think it a wise move, but it was still their decision, not his. From the scuttlebutt, Shepard had left the Citadel, off on a mission of some kind. He guessed the Council would keep a better rein on her than they had Saren. They wouldn't want another rogue Spectre on their hands.

Cadmus' feelings resolved into a blasé apathy concerning Shepard. She didn't have any effect on his own life. At least, he thought that was true until the morning after the Spectre news. Cadmus soon found that the shock of galactic news was nothing compared to the shock of the personal news he was soon to receive.

Cadmus had risen early again according to routine. The difference today was he had to take Laelia into Dr. Tayan for an assessment. Solana had to work, so Cadmus rose, helped Laelia out of bed, ate with her and then let the chauffer drive them to the hospital. Cadmus chose to wait outside. The tests took a long time and Dr. Tayan felt that Laelia was always more honest about her true feelings regarding her illness when Cadmus wasn't present.

Cadmus sat in the waiting room with little to do other than read. He'd never been much of a reader, but he saw an interesting data pad sitting on the table: _Aodi Ultio, Citadel Vigilante_. Cadmus thought the combination of the terms Citadel and vigilante disturbing, so he began to read the pad. It contained a series of fiction books supposedly based on the pivotal case of a famous C-Sec officer, Amatus Uritin. Actually, it was a bunch of inaccurate hogwash. Cadmus read and scorned and chuckled at the errors and ridiculous claptrap. Still, in spite of his derision, he kept reading, curious just how bad it would get. He'd made it to the fourth chapter of the first book when his name was called.

"Captain Vakarian?"

Cadmus looked to the receptionist. "Yes?"

"Dr. Tayan is ready to meet with you."

Cadmus set down the data pad and walked through a door and down the hall towards the doctor's office. He hoped Dr. Tayan had good news. On the way, his omni-tool vibrated. He flashed it on and took a look. A message from Garrus. Well, his son had finally seen fit to contact him after missing his previous call. Cadmus tapped the message, assuming it would just take a few seconds to read it. It took three seconds to read it. It took longer to reread it three times.

_ Dad, I figured you deserve to hear this from me before anyone else tells you. I left C-Sec. I've joined Commander Shepard. Garrus_.

Cadmus halted in his steps, his heart sank and he stared unbelieving. Garrus had what? Left C-Sec? Joined Shepard? Was this a sadistic joke on Garrus' part?

"Captain Vakarian, are you alright?"

Cadmus looked up to see Dr. Tayan peeking her head outside her door.

"I'm…fine…Yes."

The doctor gestured into her office and Cadmus followed, sitting down in a chair in front of the doctor's desk. Dr. Tayan sat down and began to speak about Laelia.

"I'm glad to see her mind is so active. I think the cladestarone helped. I am still concerned about her physical abilities. She seems to have dwindling control of her legs and waist…"

Cadmus kept his eyes on Dr. Tayan, but his mind reeled with the meaning of Garrus' message. Left C-Sec. Did that mean permanently? He'd resigned? Why? How could he make such a decision without getting advice first? And joined Commander Shepard. The human Spectre? That made no sense at all. Unless…had the Council wanted him to go with Shepard? But Garrus wasn't a Spectre and surely Venari wouldn't have authorized that. Or maybe he had no choice?

"Captain Vakarian…I don't think I have your attention."

Cadmus blinked his eyes at Dr. Tayan. "Um…I apologize…I have something on my mind."

"I was saying I'd like to try a new treatment, but it will require Laelia to stay in hospital for a few days, maybe a week. It's a laser treatment. Some think it can stimulate the brain's signals, strengthening its connection to the nerves."

"Alright."

"Your wife wouldn't consent to the procedure until I told you first. She's worried about the cost."

Cadmus sucked in a breath. "We have the finances."

"It requires machinery and time and it _is_ expensive."

"How much?"

"10,000 credits."

Cadmus stared. That much? But if it saved Laelia… "We'll pay."

Dr. Tayan nodded. "Alright. Your wife is in exam room 6. Why don't you go see her? We'll get a hospital room set up for her."

Cadmus stood and exited the room. Laelia was having a new treatment…but Garrus. He could hardly think straight. He paused in the hallway. He had to confirm this. He entered Dr. Tayan's office again. "Where can I make a private call?"

Dr. Tayan stood. "Please, use my comm." She pointed to the screen on her wall and left as Cadmus entered. The door shut behind him. Cadmus walked over to the screen and tapped in the code for Garrus. A long wait…then the message: _Investigator Garrus Vakarian is not in office. Please contact him at a later time. If you need immediate assistance, contact your local C-Sec authorities._ Cadmus looked down at his tool. He could send an instant message to his son's tool…but it was C-Sec issue. Garrus had personal ones, though. Cadmus tapped on his tool, trying to remember the code, then abruptly stopped. No, he didn't need to contact Garrus. He needed facts not emotional excuses. He'd been blindsided by his son and didn't have the information to speak to him in a rational manner. Instead, Cadmus tapped the comm again, calling up Executor Venari Pallin. His call was answered immediately.

"Doctor Tayan…" Venari's voice faded. "Cadmus. Why are you calling from…"

"I'm here with Laelia," Cadmus said. "I needed to talk to you immediately and I wanted to see you face to face."

Venari linked his talons under his chin. "I assume you want to talk about Garrus."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered. "Is it true he's left the station?"

Venari tightened his mandibles to his jaw. "It is."

"Why?"

Venari sighed. "Garrus is a good investigator. We've benefited from his skill. But he finds C-Sec too…constraining."

"He told you that, too," Cadmus grumbled.

"Not in so many words, but he argued a good deal every time I had to pull him back. I think this last case was too much for him."

"What case?"

Venari leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on his desk. "It's sensitive. The Council isn't being open with it."

"Garrus was working for the Council."

"Indirectly. Cadmus, this is confidential. I haven't been expressly told not to say anything, but I _have_ been encouraged to keep quiet, so what I am about to tell you is between us."

"I understand."

"C-Sec was initially assigned to investigate Saren Arterius. Garrus was the lead."

Cadmus was surprised the Council would choose to let C-Sec handle the investigation. Maybe they didn't want another Spectre on the case, afraid Saren had Spectre friends that would cover over evidence.

"Garrus found nothing. I ordered him to let it go. He didn't. Turns out, he was right."

"So he disobeyed the Executor and was relieved of duty."

"He left on his own. He didn't even talk to me. He sent me his resignation form effective immediately."

"He e-mailed me. Said he'd joined the human Spectre."

Venari's mandibles flared. "I suspected that, but he didn't tell me. I've met Commander Shepard. She's thoroughly human."

Cadmus tightened his jaw. Thoroughly human wasn't a compliment. Why would Garrus go along with her?

"The Council doesn't let me in on Spectre business, but I think, Cadmus, that Commander Shepard is on the heels of Saren."

Ah…Things were beginning to make sense now. "And Garrus wouldn't give up the pursuit of Saren."

Venari nodded. "That's what I believe. Garrus doesn't let criminals go easily. C-Sec's limitations weigh on him."

Cadmus shook his head. "And what could be better than following a Spectre who can do whatever she wants to whoever she wants."

Venari sighed. "Exactly my thoughts."

Cadmus stared gratefully at his old friend. "Thanks for letting me in on the details."

Venari nodded. "You deserved to know the whole truth."

Cadmus nodded back. "Vakarian out." He shut the comm down. He understood Garrus' actions but they had been utterly impulsive and uncalled for. He'd thrown off C-Sec and its rules at an opportune time because he couldn't cut it. Now that he had no restraints, what would he do? What kind of turian would he become?

* * *

At the end of the day, Cadmus sat at his computer, hands poised to compose an e-mail. Laelia had been set up at the hospital. She was comfortable. Cadmus hadn't told her the news of Garrus, not yet. He didn't need her worrying over the widening gap between her husband and son. The moment he told her Garrus left C-Sec, she would know Cadmus' feelings, that he was annoyed and angry and justly ashamed. Garrus had given up when the going got tough.

Cadmus didn't tell Solana either. He ate a quiet dinner with her. He never knew what to say to her. Neither of them had broached the subject of her outburst yesterday morning. As had become the way of the Vakarian family, they let it lie and pretended it had never happened.

Now, Cadmus looked at the blinking icon waiting for him to type. He took a breath, then forged ahead.

_Garrus,_

_ I am sure you already know my thoughts. I am disappointed in your choice. Leaving C-Sec demonstrates your impatience and inability to conform to the structure of law. When you made the decision to be a C-Sec officer you signed over your loyalty to Citadel Security. It's a disgrace to C-Sec that you've abandoned it so easily. That said, I am giving myself no illusion that you will go back. You've always been headstrong, following your own rash desires rather than rational thought. You know I would wish you to return. But I suppose that means little to you now._

_ I've spoken to Executor Pallin. He had guessed where you had gone. He's met Shepard and he is not impressed. You know how I feel about Spectres. Their power is their detriment. Humans have always wanted more power and authority. It's one of their strongest motivations. You must be careful. This Spectre isn't turian. She's an Alliance soldier. Her loyalty isn't to you or the Council. Her first loyalty is and always will be her own people. Without law to restrain her, there is no telling what she will do to advance the human cause._

_ I understand you want to stop Saren. It's an admirable goal, but it does no good to become Saren to stop him. Saren is drunk with his own arrogance. You could easily become the same. Watch your path. If you even consider your turian upbringing worth honoring, don't follow Saren. Come home._

_ Your Father._

Cadmus pushed send and sat back in his seat. He didn't even know if Garrus would reply. But he'd had to say something. Someone had to tell Garrus the truth whether he wanted to hear it or not.

Almost a week passed before Cadmus received a reply in the middle of the night. He read Garrus' message on his tool, the light of the tool the only illumination in his bedroom.

_Dad,_

_ I knew how you would take this. I didn't do it to dishonor you or my turian heritage. Saren is a disgrace to turians everywhere and he needs to be stopped. C-Sec was only getting in the way. Citadel law doesn't have the ability to stop him. Only a Spectre like Shepard can._

_ And frankly, Shepard doesn't deserve your assumptions. She's got restraint and sympathy in her nature. She isn't like Saren. If you could see past turian prejudice, you'd find that Shepard is actually a lot like you. She's already lectured me on the importance of rules. Imagine that. I leave C-Sec and then join up with a lawful Spectre. Not all Spectres are what you think they are._

_ I won't be coming home. I know you won't understand. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this is what must be done._

_ Garrus._

_ Postscript—I won't be able to contact you often. I'm not ignoring you. I'm just busy, you know, shooting down geth, chasing a rogue Spectre, calibrating, important stuff like that._

Cadmus set his tool back on the night side stand. It glowed for a moment, then plunged the room into darkness. He could hear the cocky tone Garrus would use when speaking his postscript. It was laced with sarcasm, implying his current occupations were too vital and undeserving of Cadmus' admonition. Cadmus brooded in the darkness. What had he expected of his son? Had he thought he'd come crawling home in penitence? It wouldn't have been like Garrus to do so. Of course he'd follow the human Spectre and give any number of excuses for it. He had finally thrown off the limitations he'd scorned all these years. He wouldn't be coming back.

Cadmus swallowed. He'd have to tell Laelia now, and Solana. Have to tell them Garrus had run after a human, throwing off everything Cadmus had ever tried to teach him. Cadmus grit his teeth and closed his eyes. He'd failed as a father. All these years of trying to teach Garrus why law mattered and his son had left it all behind, carried away by an apparently persuasive human Spectre who likely saw a turian as a way to advance her own selfish ends. He fell asleep in bitter defeat.


	30. Battle

Cadmus lowered the rifle from his shoulder and scrutinized the targets hundreds of feet away. He was pleased with his performance. His skill hadn't lessened; he was as good as he had been when he left the Cohort. He hadn't picked up a rifle since coming home to Laelia, but with recent events, he wanted to make sure he still made the grade. He did.

Cadmus removed his targeting visor, pocketed it and began making his way back home. He wasn't that far out, maybe a kilometer. He'd needed a break from the tension and he'd achieved some measure of relaxation. But as he hiked back, he felt all the burdens of reality making their presence known on his shoulders.

Stress on the Vakarian family had heightened tenfold since Cadmus had told Laelia and Solana that Garrus had left C-Sec and followed after the new human Spectre. Laelia worried almost constantly about her son. She knew Cadmus was angry and that bothered her as well, but she feared more than anything that Garrus had gotten himself in too deep going after a rogue Spectre with a geth army at his back. Even when Cadmus assured her Garrus could take care of himself, she continued to worry, especially as word of Saren's exploits filtered through the news.

Solana scoffed at Garrus' decision. She didn't say so directly, but her derisive speech whenever Garrus came up in conversation hinted that she thought he'd left the Citadel to escape what had happened there: the death of Arrian. To her, Shepard was a flimsy excuse.

As the house came into sight, Cadmus breathed deeply, preparing himself to face the dour mood pervading it. Over the last few weeks, he'd had to be the stability of his household, urging his wife and daughter to display the best of turian nature. He'd tried to infuse Laelia with the stalwart confidence that as a turian, she could trust Garrus could best all enemies. For Solana, he worked to instill a sense of loyalty to Garrus no matter what she perceived he had done to her. But even though he acted on all fronts like a reserved, tranquil turian, inside his thoughts raged.

Cadmus suffered no anxiety over Garrus' ability to shoot and kill. His son was a superb marksman and skilled in combat. Garrus could mow down hundreds of geth an hour if necessary. He could even manage to take Saren down with one shot if he got the chance. What concerned him instead was Garrus' personal character. That he had thrown off C-Sec revealed his tendency towards aggressive pragmatism. That he had followed Shepard spoke of his impulsivity. That he defended his choice confirmed his stubborn disregard for authority. On all fronts, Cadmus felt Garrus slipping away from him. He feared Garrus would come out of this affair with his turian upbringing demolished in the process.

As Cadmus neared the back porch, he heard an airy voice singing. A few feet away and he recognized it: Viator's daughter, Kemi. He climbed the steps and saw Laelia wearing a light blue dressing gown, leaning back in a chair, her eyes closed. The music ushered forth from a data pad in her lap. Cadmus didn't know if she was asleep, so he tiptoed over quietly and sat down in a chair across from her, placing his rifle across his knees.

Cadmus listened. As always, Kemi's tones were crystal clear and the haunting quarian music entrancing. At the same time, the music bothered Cadmus, which had nothing to do with Kemi but her "father." Cadmus hadn't talked to Viator in two years, ever since his cousin had sent him the scathing video message about Garrus. Cadmus hadn't seen any reason to respond to Viator's tirade. Time had passed with neither making any effort to contact each other. Now and then Cadmus thought of calling up Viator to see how he was, but he knew if he did that he'd have to acknowledge Viator's message and he wasn't going to.

Laelia stirred and her head came up gradually. She blinked her eyes at Cadmus. "I'm not asleep…just resting."

Cadmus nodded to her. Laelia's strength had been dwindling daily. She even spoke slowly, forming words carefully. The Syndrome was taking its toll. It was another burden that wore on Cadmus' back.

"It's so…peaceful. Kemi's voice."

Cadmus nodded again, agreeing. His thoughts about Viator didn't impugn Kemi's talent.

"It's just…sad people are disparaging it."

Cadmus sighed. How easy it was to trample objectivity. For his part, Cadmus always compartmentalized his life. Thus, he could praise Garrus for weapons skill and in the same breath chastise him for his character. One didn't have an effect on the other to his way of thinking. Most individuals in the galaxy, however, didn't do this. Kemi's music had been popular, but then Saren showed up with his geth. That meant the geth were revisited on the news and the quarians came into focus once again. The shame they had gone through centuries ago was rehashed. Anything tainted with quarian influence became a target of derision, including Kemi's music which many now proclaimed inferior and the warbling of a vagabond. Cadmus wondered how Viator and Leea were dealing with this. If he knew his cousin, he was vehemently defending Kemi every chance he got and so he should.

Kemi's voice stopped. "It's been weeks since I heard from him."

Cadmus, who had been staring into the distance thinking, looked back to Laelia, who had shut off her data pad. "He's got his hands full."

"There is honor in it…Saren should be stopped."

Cadmus stared at his wife. So far, she hadn't ventured to defend Garrus' actions, only worried over him. This was the first time she'd brought it out into the open. Cadmus ran a hand over his rifle absentmindedly. "You know my thoughts already, I'd wager."

"Can you at least…consent that he's not doing something…awful?"

Cadmus perceived the pain in Laelia's eyes. "It's not wrong to stop Saren. It _is_ wrong to betray a trust."

Laelia sighed shakily. "Do you think of C-Sec…or yourself?"

Cadmus tapped a talon on his rifle in agitation. "C-Sec," he answered quickly, though even he thought that might be a half-truth the moment it left his mouth. "He joined it. He should have been loyal to it."

"Poor Cadmus."

Cadmus cocked his head at Laelia. "I fail to see why I deserve your pity."

Laelia smiled gently. "I'm not meaning to offend you, husband. It's just…you've wanted him to be like you…all these years. Maybe…maybe he's_ never_ going to be like you. I'm sorry."

Cadmus stopped tapping on the rifle, grasped it with his right hand and stood. "I wanted him to be a good turian, nothing more."

"He is," Laelia insisted.

Cadmus didn't protest. Laelia seemed to see Garrus as a turian without any flaw. Her adoration of him blinded her to his faults. Let her think he was. Cadmus had no desire to challenge her already frail heart with the truth. "Are you ready to come inside?"

"Maybe a few more minutes," Laelia spoke quietly.

Cadmus passed her, placing an encouraging hand on her shoulder as he made his way to the back door.

"Cadmus…" Laelia called after him.

Cadmus paused on the door step and looked back. "Yes?"

"Tell me he'll be alright. Tell me I'll see him again."

Cadmus softened his gaze. "I've told you he's fine. I guarantee you he will return safely." Laelia nodded, closed her eyes again and tapped her data pad, Kemi's smooth soprano filling the porch.

_He'll come back_, Cadmus thought to himself, _but who knows what he'll be like. He may no longer be the son we thought we knew._

* * *

Disturbing news continued to be reported regarding Saren. There were geth sightings on the human colony Feros and an entire settlement had required rescue. Then came a startling report from Noveria that the biotechnology company Binary Helix had been trying to resurrect the rachni and lost control of them. This alone would have caused enough anger and shock in the galaxy, but added to it was a report that Matriarch Benezia, a well-known asari leader and executive secretary for the company, had been one of the victims. Rumor abounded that she had been in league with Saren, in fact trying to bring the rachni back for him. The asari refused to comment on their Matriarch leading most to conclude the rumors were true.

It was these events that caused Cadmus to reassess his weapons skill. If reports were true, Saren was trying to build an overwhelming fighting force for an all out assault on something. Cadmus wouldn't have thought a turian could turn on his own people, but Saren's motives weren't clear. In the beginning, his target had seemed to be humans alone, but Noveria challenged that assumption. Everyone suspected something deeper afoot. Would Saren try and take over turian space, make himself ruler of it all? It had to be considered a possibility and Cadmus determined to be ready for any eventuality.

The next report that caught Cadmus' eye concerned Commander Shepard. Any mention of the new human Spectre garnered Cadmus' immediate attention since as far as he knew, Garrus was still with her. ANN announced that Commander Shepard was back on the Citadel, apparently recalled by the Council. At the same time, the Council began mobilizing the Citadel Fleet and guarding the mass relays that led to the Citadel. This action caused more paranoia than any other. The Council must have received intel that the Citadel was in danger, Cadmus guessed getting this information from the recalled Commander Shepard.

For several days, nothing else was reported except a rehashing of the events up to the Council's mobilization. Any time Cadmus left the house, he overheard discussions of curiosity, turians wondering where Saren was and why everything had gone silent. Cadmus briefly considered that Garrus had been able to make the critical shot and had relieved the galaxy of Saren Arterius. But then, Saren's death certainly would have been broadcast immediately. No, more likely Saren was lying in wait somewhere building up his army. If he intended to attack the Citadel as the Council believed, he would be forced to approach through the relays and with the Fleet guarding those, he didn't stand a chance. Cadmus fully expected the next major report to be that a battle had been engaged at one of the relays.

So it was utter shock when a little less than a week after the Council's defenses were put in place Solana burst into his study and proclaimed, "The Citadel's under attack!"

As Cadmus stared at her in disbelief, she grabbed a chair and hauled it behind his desk, sitting down next to him. Her talons whirled over his computer keys, tapping into a live feed from the human news organization Alliance News Network. A male reporter's voice over accompanied a wide picture of the Citadel and the space surrounding it.

"…Citadel attack began ten minutes ago. Attacking force has been identified as geth in origin. All communication from the Citadel has been silenced. It is feared that somehow an attack has also begun inside the station. Earlier, we saw the Wards start to close, but then abruptly halt…"

Cadmus continued to stare, his breath caught in his throat, his mind stymied.

"I'll go tell mom," Solana said, but before she could stand, Cadmus thrust out his hand and grabbed her arm.

"No," he whispered harshly, "She doesn't need to see this."

Solana slowly nodded. The reporter was still talking. "Transmission scanners earlier picked up information that the Council has made it off station in the Destiny Ascension."

Cadmus took a shaky breath. The Council had survived…so far. But could they make it to a relay? The reporter answered his question. "I've just been informed the Citadel Relay is inoperable." For the first time, the reporter's voice trembled. "All we can hope now is the Fleet wins."

Cadmus' eyes were glued to the screen. He couldn't count the number of vessels involved in the battle, though at times he could identify them—turian, asari, salarian and enemy geth. There was also a large ship he couldn't identify, an enormous, black, tentacled beast heading straight for the Citadel. Flashes of light indicated deaths aplenty, ships and organic beings wiped out in an instant. Cadmus' heart thumped ferociously in his chest. He wasn't viewing this from a distance. To him, this was an attack on himself personally. Every flash of light, every explosion aimed at the Citadel felt like a punch to his gut. He felt the urge to rush out of the room and to the spaceport, fly to the station and throw himself into the fleet trying to save it. But, of course, he couldn't do that. All he could do was watch helplessly and hold his breath.

Cadmus felt a strong hand grip his arm. He turned to Solana. "I'm sorry, dad. I'm sorry."

Cadmus nodded, accepting her sympathy, and turned back to the screen. No matter how painful it was, he couldn't help but watch. He couldn't fight with his body, but he did fight with his mind, willing the Fleet to be successful, the station to survive.

"The Ward arms are closing! They're closing!" the reporter called out. Indeed, they were, but the reporter's positive tone wasn't echoed in Cadmus' spirit because at the same time, Cadmus saw the large enemy ship passing between the arms. Shut the Wards now and that ship could wreck all the havoc it wanted unopposed. Either someone on the Citadel had managed to try and shut them before it got in or someone else on the Citadel was closing the Wards on purpose to keep the Fleet out and the ominous ship in.

"Wait! Wait!" the reporter cried. "It looks like…geth ships are going in. Only the geth. The arms…heaven help us."

The reporter had seen the truth, too. The arms closed. Cadmus balled his hands into fists. He could only imagine what was happening on _his_ station. Civilians gunned down and crushed; towers and homes and venues, whole city blocks decimated. And C-Sec…his friends trying to save it all. If he had only known this would happen, if he could have seen the future, he could have been there. Instead he was here, safe on Palaven. Why had he left the Citadel? Why?

"Garrus…He's there?" Solana's voice came out strained.

Cadmus didn't move his eyes from the screen. "Possibly." He hadn't thought of that yet. Of course, Shepard had gone back to the Citadel. Garrus would be with her, wouldn't he? Or maybe not. In truth, Cadmus had no idea where his son was.

"It makes sense now."

Cadmus briefly rolled an eye over to Solana. "What?"

"Garrus…he sent me a message. Apologized again." Solana's eyes were fixed on the screen.

"When?"

"A couple days ago."

Cadmus eyed the screen. "He might not be there."

"But he might."

Cadmus didn't answer. Was Garrus right now fighting against multitudes of unrelenting geth, cornered in a station overrun? He had told Laelia Garrus would come home. What if he had been wrong? Losing Garrus could kill her.

Minutes ticked by. The battle raged on. The reporter said less and less as the Fleet seemed to be losing by the second. Then with distress in his voice, he said, "The Destiny Ascension is calling for help. The Council…we're going to lose them."

Cadmus tightened his fists farther. The Council was the center of the galaxy. They held it together. They couldn't be lost.

"Wait a second…It looks like…Yes, the relay is operable again!"

Cadmus sucked in a breath and watched as new ships streamed into the frame, most from the human Alliance. They made a beeline for the struggling Destiny Ascension. Explosions flashed all over the screen and finally the reporter called out, "The Destiny Ascension is safe!"

"Thank the spirits," Solana whispered.

"The arms are opening! The Fleet is going in!" the reporter cried in exaltation.

The camera zoomed in, far enough that Cadmus could see the large ship that had entered the arms clinging to the Citadel Tower. What it was doing there when the Council had evacuated Cadmus couldn't guess. Ships streamed toward the Tower and in seconds the ship was under attack. It had formidable defenses however. A red beam shot out from it and sliced several ships in half easily. Then, all of a sudden, it faltered, losing its grip on the tower. Electric energy rippled along its surface. The Fleet took aim, every ship concentrating its shots on the tentacled monster. It suddenly shattered violently, pieces of it careening into the Tower and the Wards. There were several more minutes of fire, and then the reporter jubilantly exclaimed, "The battle is won! We've won!"

Cadmus turned to Solana, her eyes still locked on the screen. He unclenched his aching fists and moved his hand to his arm. Solana had been holding onto him the whole time. His arm throbbed against her tight grip. He firmly, but gently, removed her hand. She looked to him with misted eyes. "_Now_ we must tell your mother."

* * *

As expected, Laelia took the news hard as evidenced by her desire to be alone after Cadmus and Solana spoke to her. Solana had left her room, but Cadmus had lingered.

"We don't know he was there," Cadmus insisted. "It's no good to assume what we don't know."

Laelia had looked up blankly. "You can leave, please."

Cadmus drew back, reluctantly leaving his wife in solitude. He spent the rest of the day with his data pad stuck to his hand. Solana kept the screen in the living room on as well. Reports trickled in. The Council had yet to release an official statement. One question was how the Alliance had shown up so quickly. Cadmus continually tabbed between turian news and ANN. Turian news was fine with him in its hesitancy to state more than the bare facts. Still, at a time like this, he found turian news sources to be frustratingly sparse. ANN on the other hand, was bursting with information. He just had to remind himself that not everything broadcast on it was necessarily accurate. Thus, when ANN reported on something, Cadmus always checked out turian sources to see if these reports had been confirmed.

By the time night descended on Cipritine, a report came in that clarified who was fundamentally responsible for saving the Council and the Citadel: Commander Jane Shepard. The human Spectre had stormed the Citadel Tower and taken down Saren in the central chamber, also opening the arms and allowing the Alliance fleet to take out the large geth dreadnought inside. It was reported that Commander Shepard had been wounded by the explosion, but would recover. Infuriatingly, the report also mentioned that two members of Shepard's team had been with her as well and both were likewise wounded. However, no mention was given of their names.

Cadmus tried to contact Garrus, but there had been no answer. Of course, that didn't mean he was hurt. Cadmus was sure the Citadel and its surrounding space were still in chaos. It would take months, maybe years, until the clean up from the battle was complete.

Cadmus spent the night on tenterhooks. Sleep didn't come. He finally gave up and descended the stairs, intending to take a long walk in the quiet night. However, he overheard voices talking in Laelia's bedroom and so proceeded down the hall. Laelia's door was open and he paused outside, listening to her soft voice.

"You should…call your father."

"You can tell him I'm alright." It was Garrus speaking. Cadmus felt a bit of weight lift from his shoulders and he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Garrus…"

"Mom, he didn't understand why I left. I don't think he'll understand now."

"Give him a chance." Cadmus appreciated Laelia's desire to mend his relationship with Garrus, but he understood Garrus' reluctance. Saren had certainly proved a threat needing removal, but Cadmus hadn't yet determined that justified Garrus' actions. Shepard had been given the mission, not him. It hadn't been incumbent on him to abandon C-Sec.

Cadmus heard Garrus sigh. "We'll see."

"And tell your sister."

"I've sent a message to Sol."

"She was…worried about you."

"She said that when she replied. But I'm fine."

"What will you do now?"

"I'm still thinking over my options. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"Okay."

"I need to go. Things are a mess here. I need to help where I can."

"Spirits be with you, Garrus."

"And you. Good-bye."

Cadmus waited a few seconds, then stepped through the door. Laelia looked up when she heard him enter. "I couldn't sleep," Cadmus explained.

Laelia's face broke into a small, relieved smile. "Garrus contacted me. He's alive. He was hurt, but he's alright."

"What happened to him?" Cadmus asked, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to her.

"He was in the Tower…with Shepard. Sovereign exploded and debris rained down on them. He caught a shard that pierced his liver…but he's had surgery and he'll be fine."

Cadmus cocked his head. "Sovereign?"

"Garrus said that's what the large dreadnought that attacked the Citadel was called."

"A new geth ship."

"I don't know. He didn't explain it…just called it Sovereign." Laelia laid down in the bed. "Stay with me?"

Cadmus reached out, palmed off the lights, and slid into the sheets. He felt Laelia scoot into his side. Soon her soft breathing indicated she had fallen asleep. He hoped she would have a long and peaceful rest. Cadmus, though, still found sleep elusive. Garrus had survived, but what of all the others on the Citadel? Who had lived and who had died? Of primary concern to him was Viator. He had tried to contact his cousin as well as Garrus and likewise had gotten no answer. He hated to think that Viator would have died and the final state of their relationship would have been a childish ignoring of each other.

* * *

The days that followed the Battle of the Citadel, as it was being called, brought more news reports and developments by the hour. The extent of Saren's evil had been revealed as confirmations came in that he had been responsible for deaths on multiple worlds, that he had persuaded Matriarch Benezia to his cause, that he had not only been in league with geth, but had been trying to raise a krogan army as well. A whole salarian espionage team had been killed while fighting his forces on Virmire. The motive for Saren's rampage hadn't yet been determined. All that was clear was that Saren had been the root of all the destruction.

But if one Council Spectre had been destroyed by shame and death, another had risen to incredible heights. Commander Shepard was being hailed all over the galaxy. It had been her dogged pursuit of Saren that brought him to the hour of his annihilation. ANN had taken up Shepard's praise with gusto and was eagerly awaiting a chance to interview her. Cadmus had been forced to admit to himself that even if Shepard had taken out Saren for humanity rather than the galaxy, she deserved the honor. No matter why she had done it, she had, and should be lauded for saving the Citadel.

After a week, casualty and injury lists from the Citadel began to find their way onto the extranet. Cadmus scrutinized these daily, and every time he saw a name he recognized his gut plummeted. Several C-Sec friends had perished either while fighting Saren's forces inside the station or when debris from the geth ship had pummeled the Wards. He found out that Tychus had died while defending a makeshift barrier meant to protect Zakera during the battle, to keep geth from entering the Ward from the Presidium. It was exactly how Tychus, the ever aggressive combative turian, would have wanted to go—down fighting. But it didn't make his death any easier for Cadmus. Asheel had been wounded at the same barrier, a blow to the head and was in critical condition. But their leadership had held the barrier, that and Paeon and had taken over when they had been removed, rallying C-Sec officers to hold the blockade. Kepel had been wounded in Bachjret, though his injuries were listed as minor. It was reported that the turians of Bachjret had been instrumental in pushing the geth forces out of the Wards and into the Presidium. Turians had done what they did best: fighting no matter the odds.

Every day Cadmus scanned the lists and every day Viator's name didn't appear. This was good, but he wished he had some word on his cousin's condition. Cadmus tried not to worry, but failed to quell the constant anxiety in his mind. When the geth ship had been destroyed, Tayseri Ward had taken the brunt of the hit. Viator both lived and worked in Tayseri.

A week and a half after the battle, word came down that the humans had been given a seat on the Council in honor of their sacrifices to save the Citadel. Both Shepard and the Alliance, proclaimed the Council, had demonstrated dedication to the galaxy by putting their lives on the line. Most turians begrudgingly accepted this decision. Humanity was still so very young in galactic space, but they _had_ done a great service and if anything could gain the respect of turians it was military action. Nevertheless, how humanity would affect the Council would be interesting to see. Cadmus anticipated many arguments and differences of opinion and perhaps regret that a human had been allowed on the Council.

The day of the Council's announcement that humanity had been granted a seat on the Council, to be held by a Captain David Anderson, Cadmus hadn't been able to wait any longer for word of Viator. He sent a message to Garrus letting him know he hadn't been able to contact his cousin. Unexpectedly, he got a call back almost immediately. He stood in front of the screen in his office and tapped the incoming call. Garrus appeared. He wore red and black armor of a type Cadmus hadn't seen before.

"I got your message."

Cadmus drew in a breath as he examined his son's appearance. "I was glad to hear you were alright."

"I'm fine." Garrus rubbed the back of his neck nervously and his eyes flitted off screen for a moment.

"Do you have company?"

Garrus looked back at the screen. "No, just keeping on top of damage reports."

"The Citadel?"

"Yeah. I'm helping out with rescue efforts. We don't find many alive anymore, but we're still removing rubble. Dad, Tayseri Ward was hit hard. I don't know about Cousin Viator. I'm not involved in Tayseri rescue efforts."

Cadmus swallowed hard. "If you do hear anything, let me know."

"I will."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Cadmus gazed into Garrus' eyes, trying to read his thoughts, but came up empty. He was hiding, covering his inner ruminations well. Cadmus sucked in a breath and forged ahead. Might as well get it out of the way sooner than later. "Are you…still with the human Spectre?"

"You mean _Shepard_?" Garrus asked, emphasizing the last word.

Cadmus stared, annoyed his son clarified who he was talking about when Garrus knew very well that's what he meant.

"No. I joined her to find and stop Saren. We did."

"So…what are your future plans?"

Garrus' mandibles flapped. "I'm considering going back to C-Sec. It doesn't have the perks of Shepard's leadership, but it needs all the help it can get right now."

Cadmus thought he should have been glad to hear Garrus wanted to return to his former job, but something bothered him about it, especially the way Garrus compared C-Sec to working with Shepard. He spoke his thoughts. "Are you sure you _want_ to go back? Are you sure you can handle its limitations?" His voice came out with a tinge of sarcasm.

Garrus rubbed his neck again. "Can't you admit I was right? That going after Saren was the right choice?"

Cadmus tightened his jaw. "It wasn't wrong to stop Saren, but the way you went about it wasn't honorable."

Garrus blew out a breath. "C-Sec never would have lifted a finger to stop Saren. It was a necessary and logical action and I don't care if you can't see it."

Cadmus folded his arms over his chest. "There's a bigger picture, Garrus. Your vision is narrow. You saw Saren and nothing else. But you pledged your loyalty to C-Sec. What happened to the cases you left behind? What happened to the teams you'd worked on? What effect did your absence have on them? On the Citadel?"

Garrus linked his hands behind his back and faced his father square on. "I'm not going to second guess my choice. I made it. You'll have to deal with it. If Cousin Viator turns up, you'll hear from me." Garrus reached out and the screen went blank.

Cadmus ground his jaw. Garrus' escape from the Citadel under Shepard certainly hadn't helped him in the least. All it had done was solidify his obstinate rebellion.

* * *

A week later, a chime rang in the Vakarian home. Cadmus heard Solana answer it and then a surprised exclamation. "Cousin!"

Cadmus stood and exited his office, peering at the entryway. To his astonishment, Viator stood inside, dressed in a rumpled maroon suit, his right hand clutching a bag and his left around a petite quarian standing next to him. Judging by her size, it was most likely Kemi, now fifteen.

"Viator!" Cadmus called out, rushing to him in relief. Viator dropped his bag to the floor and gripped right wrists with Cadmus.

"I should have called first," Viator spoke quietly. "I just didn't think about it. We left the Citadel too quickly."

"Please, don't apologize. You're heartily welcome here," Cadmus said. "Did you see Garrus?"

"No. Was he on station?"

Cadmus nodded. "I asked him to keep on ear out for word of you."

"Oh. I'm sorry I didn't see him." Viator shook his head. "Cadmus, we couldn't stay there anymore. We had to get out. Kemi had to…Leea's gone…She…That ship…it killed her."

Cadmus' mandibles fluttered and his heart sank. He heard Solana's sharp intake of breath right next to him. "I'm…sorry," he stammered. "Please, come sit."

Viator walked into the parlor, his arm tight around Kemi. Solana followed, her eyes moist. Cadmus came last, his mind in a whirl. It was true he had found Viator's choice in mate unconventional and strange, but that didn't stop his heart from crying out in agony for his cousin. The attack on the Citadel had just become even more personal.


	31. Wake

Viator sat on the parlor couch with Kemi close to him. Cadmus had intentionally seated himself in a large chair to Viator's right.

"What happened?" Solana asked breathlessly, slowly sitting down in a chair across from the couch.

Viator gulped and patted Kemi on the knee when she shuddered. "Leea and Kemi were in the Dilinaga Concert Hall when the attack started. Kemi was practicing. When the geth appeared on station, the Concert Hall was declared a safe place to take refuge. Civilians filled it up." Viator coughed, then continued. "I was on duty at the time. They needed me near the Presidium." His eyes became wet and he blinked them multiple times. "Everything was fine until that ship blew…The hall took the brunt of the debris…Leea…"

For the first time, Kemi's softly accented voice sounded through her filtered suit. "She covered me with her body. She saved me." A distressing sob ushered from her helmet.

Solana, unable to contain herself, jumped up from her chair and paced over to Kemi, kneeling down on one knee in front of her and grasping her hands. "I know. I know how it feels. I'm so sorry."

Kemi trembled and leaned into Solana. Solana, not used to embracing anyone but Arrian and her mother, awkwardly let the girl fall into her arms. But she held her tightly and nodded to Viator to let him know it was alright. Viator rubbed a hand over his eyes. Solana pushed Kemi back slightly. "You've had a long trip. Are you hungry or thirsty?"

Kemi nodded.

"Come with me into the kitchen." Leea helped Kemi stand and left the room with a quick backward glance at Cadmus.

Viator turned his attention to his cousin. "They found Kemi under Leea's body hours after the hall was destroyed. She laid there covered by her all that time."

Cadmus couldn't help but get a mental picture of Leea's small suited body curled around her niece's even slighter build. It angered him. "Garrus fought with Commander Shepard when she took Saren down," he said, hoping to encourage Viator with the knowledge that the guilty party had gotten his just desserts.

"I never thought I'd have a human to thank for anything," Viator mumbled. "I owe Commander Shepard everything for going after that barefaced traitor." Viator was staring into the kitchen where Solana could be seen sitting with Kemi at the table.

"You're moving back to Palaven then?" Cadmus asked.

Viator turned back to him, nodding. "Kemi couldn't stay on there. She's having nightmares and the station was a daily reminder of everything that happened to her."

"Are you going to send her to the Migrant Fleet?"

Viator's mandibles closed against his jaw. "No."

Cadmus' mandibles twitched and he proceeded forward in a gentle, cautionary tone. "She _is_ quarian. They are her people."

Viator swallowed, his focus back on the kitchen. "Kemi doesn't want to go back. She's insistent that the Fleet isn't her family."

"Still…" Cadmus began, but Viator interrupted.

"She's had her taste of freedom long before she's ever been commissioned on Pilgrimage. She values being outside the Fleet…And if she goes back, it's possible we'll never see each other again. We're family, she and I, and the Fleet can't change that."

"I understand your position, but to tear her away from them…"

"Cadmus," Viator spoke firmly, "I didn't come here for your advice. I get what you're saying. It makes a lot of sense, but that doesn't mean it's right. I want her with me, not just because I can't stand to lose her, but_ because_ of the Fleet. Leea told me the Fleet was heading towards crisis. With the geth back, they're arguing over trying to go for Rannoch and the majority is leaning towards fighting for their homeworld." Viator stared resolutely at Cadmus. "I'm not going to send Kemi back to get stuck in a war."

"Will they try and take her from you?" Cadmus asked in a warning tone.

"As far as they know, she died on the Citadel," Viator explained quietly. "I'm guessing you've pored over the casualty reports. Leea wasn't on the list. Truth is, no one cares about the quarians right now. To the galaxy, there isn't _one_ quarian worth reporting their death." Viator's voice turned bitter at the end.

Cadmus considered his cousin. He couldn't imagine what Viator was going through, yet he didn't think it reasonable to run off with Kemi. The young quarian would need a sterile environment somewhere. What if she got sick? Who would know how to treat her? But he didn't voice these objections to Viator. It certainly wasn't the time or place and really, not even his business.

"Well," Cadmus said, "She's your daughter. I don't think it's necessarily wise, but you are her father and it's your decision."

Viator sighed and lowered his eyes. "Speaking of being a father…I didn't know if you'd want to see me, but, well, I had to stop by on my way to Altava. My parents will welcome us, but you knew Leea best of anyone in the family. I just felt I had to tell you."

Cadmus felt a knot form in his throat. How arrogant it had been of him to refuse to call Viator. They could have worked it through even though they disagreed. "I should have called. I was wrong."

Viator looked up. "And I'm sorry for my message. I was angry. I should have waited to talk to you when I had a level head."

Cadmus nodded, accepting Viator's apology.

"It doesn't mean what I said wasn't accurate," Viator went on, "but I could have said it better."

Cadmus shifted in his seat. So, Viator was sorry for the how but not the content.

"Still, I know you're just trying to assure Garrus is a good turian. You're trying the best you can." Viator glanced into the kitchen again. "But Cadmus, sometimes you have to let them do their own thing. They weren't born to satisfy our desires. They have their own roles to play in the universe. And they're going to face trial and hardship and we need to be by their sides helping them through with an arm around them and our lectures silenced."

Cadmus listened critically. He and Viator obviously had divergent views when it came to children. However much Viator held to the stance that you let your children run freely, Cadmus knew even he couldn't deny that structure and guidance were necessities.

"They do need us who have gone before them to direct them," Cadmus said quietly. "They don't have the experience we do."

Viator lowered his head again. "I'm not saying they don't need us. I'm just saying there's value in reserving judgment until you've seen things from their point of view."

Cadmus contemplated. Yes, he could see things from Garrus' point of view. Saren was getting away and Garrus was compelled to hunt him until he was brought in or killed. But seeing from Garrus' point of view didn't make his choices correct. Cadmus peered down at Viator's bowed head. His cousin was hurting and lost. This wasn't the time for a lecture on childrearing.

"I think we've philosophized enough," Cadmus said. "Why don't you have something to eat as well. It's quite a ways to Altava." Cadmus stood, gripped Viator's hand and pulled him to his feet, then clapped him on the back. "You're always welcome here any time."

Viator's mandibles flapped and he gripped Cadmus' wrist, nodding gratefully. His eyes had misted again and he wiped the back of his hand over them as he headed to the kitchen.

* * *

Laelia insisted that Viator and Kemi stay the night before traveling on. Viator gratefully accepted. The next morning the Vakarian family stood in the entryway to say good-bye. Solana embraced both Kemi and Viator. She alone knew exactly how they felt. In fact, she had spent most of the night talking to Viator and Cadmus had made himself scarce, recognizing that they were sharing thoughts and troubles of which he knew not. Though with trepidation he realized his time might not be far off. As the Vakarians watched Viator and Kemi climb into a speeder and drive away, Cadmus kept a tight arm wrapped around Laelia, partly to support her, but mostly because he didn't want to let go of her.

Laelia shivered as the speeder disappeared into the distance. "I don't know how Viator would have made it without Kemi. Thank the spirits Kemi lived and he didn't lose his wife _and_ his child."

Cadmus looked down at her. Tears had welled up in her eyes. Cadmus reached down and tenderly dried her eyes. Laelia could put herself in Viator's shoes. How many times had she faced the possible loss of her husband and her son? Too many times to count.

"I hope Saren is rotting in the underworld," Solana's passionate voice declared from Cadmus' right. Cadmus glanced at his daughter who gazed after the speeder with eyes aflame. If there was an underworld. Cadmus had never put much stock in turian myth.

"He's gone from the galaxy…at least," Laelia spoke softly, taking a laborious breath between her words. "And Garrus is partly…responsible. The galaxy…owes him a large debt."

Cadmus didn't look down at his wife. Her words were aimed at both himself and Solana, urging them to make peace with the missing member of their family.

"I am…grateful to him," Solana said, picking her words carefully.

Cadmus didn't like to pry into his children's relationship. He hadn't asked Solana what interaction she had had with her brother since the battle and he didn't intend to. Time, he had decided, would heal them, not coercion.

"He's considering going back to C-Sec," Cadmus stated.

Laelia crossed an arm over her chest and patted Cadmus' arm. "He cares about the Citadel."

Cadmus wondered: Did Garrus care about it as much as he did? Or was it a means to an end? Would he use C-Sec to get something he wanted or this time would be allow C-Sec to mold him into a champion of law?

* * *

At the end of the second week after the Battle, the Council released an official report on the whole affair. It commended all the soldiers and first responders that had rushed to the Citadel's aid and assured everyone in Citadel space that the threat was over. The bulk of Saren's force was gone, including the large ship, which the Council described as a geth construct. Alliance forces, including Commander Shepard, and a portion of the Citadel Fleet were in the process of chasing down the last pockets of geth. The statement ended with an exultant proclamation that the Citadel would be repaired and rise even stronger from its ashes.

Cadmus felt the statement bolstered everyone's spirits and it would have stayed that way if Commander Shepard hadn't appeared publicly to dispute the Council's declaration. Everyone had been waiting to hear from the woman who had saved the Citadel. Cadmus guessed that most races in Citadel space huddled around their communication screens eager to lay their eyes on Commander Shepard for the first time since the battle. Cadmus joined in, interested to see and hear the woman who had gained his son's earnest respect.

An ANN reporter began by stating she was reporting from the Normandy, Commander Shepard's ship, which was still uprooting geth stragglers left behind by Saren. The reporter noted that Shepard had laid low since the events, but had been willing to talk after the Council had its say first. The camera then panned away from the reporter and onto Shepard who sat in a sort of living area that Cadmus assumed was in her cabin.

"Commander, thank you for agreeing to speak with me."

Shepard nodded. Her eyes were hard and Cadmus had an uncomfortable feeling that this interview wasn't headed anywhere good.

"You requested that before I ask any questions, you be given the opportunity to release your own statement."

"Yes, I would like to do so," Shepard said.

"Go ahead."

Shepard turned to stare straight into the camera. "The Council has told you that the threat is past. It is _not_. The geth were not the source of the ship we saw attack the Citadel. The ship is a Reaper and there are more of them out there. They are on their way and their only goal is to wipe organics out of the galaxy."

"Uh…" the reporter sounded startled, obviously not expecting such an outrageous statement. "The Council has confirmed…"

Shepard ignored the reporter. "It's time we put our differences aside. All the races in the galaxy need to prepare for the Reapers. We all know about the Protheans and we've wondered what happened to them. Their entire civilization was decimated by the Reapers. The Reapers come back every 50,000 years and now's the time. We must be ready for them."

"Commander, I don't understand. Where did you get this information?"

Shepard now looked to the reporter. "I've connected with Prothean artifacts."

"Connected?"

Shepard nodded. "The Protheans left warnings for us, beacons of information. I've seen the Protheans fight the Reapers. I've seen them lose. If we don't prepare, we'll end up just like them."

"You mean, you've seen visions?" the reporter asked incredulously.

"You could call them visions, yes. The point is, I know the truth and there are others out there who know it, too. Saren knew it as well. He wanted to give in to the Reapers. We're not going to that. We're going to win against them."

"Commander, do you have any proof…"

Shepard sighed loudly. "_I'm_ the proof. The Prothean ruins are the proof. Ask any member of my team. It's true."

"Well, this has been interesting, Commander. Maybe, now that you've made your statement, you could describe to us what happened on the Citadel."

"A Reaper attacked the Citadel. A vanguard, Sovereign. It was trying to bring the Reapers back through the Citadel."

"Yes…um…I think that's all the time we have. Thank you, Commander."

The interview broke off. Cadmus shut down the screen and sat in stunned silence in his office chair. What in the world had happened to Commander Shepard? _That_ was the savior of the Citadel? A female human who thought that some ships called Reapers were on their way to terrorize the galaxy? It was ludicrous, especially since the Council had already investigated and found the ship to be geth in origin. Cadmus remembered his warning to Garrus that Shepard was a human and had human interests at heart. Either this was some elaborate way to sway the galaxy to humanity's side under threat of attack or Commander Shepard was insane. At this point, Cadmus didn't know which. He was just thankful Garrus wasn't with her anymore.

The Council responded to Commander Shepard's interview with one of its own, all its members, except the human councilor who was absent, stating that the Commander had not been authorized to speak to journalists on the Citadel and that her views were not their own. All their investigations revealed that Saren had worked alone and that no threat of monstrous machines from deep space existed. After the Council's announcement, humanity was skewered by alien media. Obviously, the humans were playing some game, using Commander Shepard to cause panic in the galaxy that benefited their desires for power. They already had managed to get a seat on the Council, a move that was highly disparaged. The Alliance's aid in the Battle of the Citadel became suspect. Perhaps the Alliance had shown up only because its leaders knew their actions would force the Council to give them more say so in the galaxy.

With the onset of alien disapproval, even some humans went out of their way to distance themselves from Commander Shepard, claiming her quick rise to Spectre, missions all over the galaxy and fight for her life on the Citadel had led to post-traumatic stress disorder. She was seeing enemies in the shadows because she'd seen so many in the last several weeks. Who could blame her? It really wasn't her fault.

Commander Shepard did one other interview that went about as well as the first, then she went silent. The Council said Shepard had Spectre business and would not be available for comment. Cadmus assumed the Council had burdened Shepard with work to keep her busy and out of the way. She was a blight on their decisions. Her interviews had directly led to criticism of the Council, civilians up in arms, upset that the Council had made the wrong decision by choosing a human Spectre to chase after Saren.

The galaxy became divided over Shepard. Some supported her, not necessarily her claims about Reapers, but because she _had_ saved the Citadel and this was reason enough not to throw her to the side. However, the majority maintained Shepard didn't have the mental capacity to be a leader in the galaxy. Cadmus expected arguments about Commander Shepard to drag on for years; instead, all argument was silenced in a day.

A month after the Battle, Cadmus had woken on schedule and as always tabbed on his datapad for the news. There in bold lettering flashed the first news title: "Spectre Commander Jane Shepard Killed in Attack." He read slowly, taking the information in: _Commander Jane Shepard, Council Spectre, was killed when her ship, the Normandy, was fired upon by an unknown assailant. She and her crew were continuing to eradicate the last of Saren's geth, but the Systems Alliance has reported that the attackers of her ship were not geth and have yet to be identified. Although the Alliance has not located the Commander's body, it has confirmed she was still on board when her ship disintegrated. More than one witness in escape pods described seeing her struggling in open space, an air leak in her suit apparent. Some also said they saw her limp body fall towards Alchera. Most likely, her body burned up in the ice planet's atmosphere._

Cadmus lowered his data pad and stared at the ceiling. Thus came the end of the first human Spectre. Perhaps it was for the best, he thought, not with malice, but with detached neutrality. She had died in an honorable way, hunting down the last of the geth. Perhaps this was the galaxy's way of honoring her and at the same time removing the conflict she had caused.

Then a thought struck him. How would Garrus take the news? He had seemed to idolize Shepard. Then again, maybe since her interviews, Garrus had seen through her façade and concluded as Cadmus had that Shepard was a human best left to herself.

* * *

Three days after the news of Shepard's death, Cadmus received a brief message from Garrus: _Dad, I'm coming home. Garrus._ Without any context, Cadmus had no clue why Garrus had decided to leave the Citadel and make for Palaven. So he responded with an e-mail of his own: _Garrus, Thank you for letting me know. Your mother will be delighted to see you. She has worried much over you and to have you back home will calm her spirit and aid her healing. Have you thought any more about C-Sec? Your Father. Postscript— Viator has come back to Palaven. He visited us. Leea died in the Battle. _Garrus replied: _Dad, I am leaving the Citadel because I have discussed the prospect of rejoining C-Sec with Executor Pallin. He refused to consider my return until I went home for at least two weeks. Garrus._ Cadmus was intrigued. Venari didn't do anything without good reason behind it. If he thought Garrus needed time at home, then it had to be true. What Venari thought he would gain, Cadmus didn't know. Maybe rescue efforts had been stressful on Garrus and he needed a break before diving back into an equally taxing environment.

Several days passed by as the Vakarians waited for the final member of their family to return. They hadn't all been under the same roof since Garrus' last leave which must have been almost a year ago. Cadmus both wanted to see his son and dreaded his arrival. Garrus was alive and well and Cadmus desired to see him again in person, but he could not pretend the tension away between himself and his son. They still didn't see eye to eye and being together meant they'd have to tread carefully for Laelia's sake.

Finally, on the last day of the weekend, Laelia called for Solana and asked her to help her to the parlor. As they passed Cadmus' office, Laelia paused and peeked in with her daughter at her side. "Garrus sent me a message. He'll be here…in a few moments."

Cadmus watched Solana assist her mother into the parlor, where she sat down stiffly. With so much chaos in the galaxy, Cadmus' thought had been distracted from Laelia's fight against the Syndrome. Watching her now, he felt discouraged. The treatments they had tried had only slowed the disease not vanquished it. He hated her suffering. He wished again what he had more than once since his retirement—that he had gotten Corpalis Syndrome and not her. He stood and walked into the parlor, sitting down on the couch next to her and taking her left hand in his. Solana had disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and Cadmus felt the need for a private moment of tenderness. He brought his other hand to her cheek, turning her head towards him and kissing her gently. Laelia smiled sadly when he pulled back.

"A pity kiss?"

Cadmus was once again impressed by her insight. They didn't kiss much these days and sex was out of the question. Pity, yes, but not just that. "An encouragement," Cadmus said quietly. "You've had to deal with so much in the last weeks."

"We've made it through," Laelia whispered.

They had. Cadmus thought most of their resilience had to do with the fact they were turian. Turians had a habit of telling trials to stick it when they faced them.

The chime rang and Laelia turned her face to the door, eagerness in her eyes. Cadmus stood and made for the door, opening it. Garrus stood outside dressed in a rumpled red suit. He carried a bag and had his weapons case slung over a shoulder. "Dad," he said in greeting. Cadmus reached out and gripped his right wrist, Garrus mirroring his movement.

"Come in, Garrus," Cadmus welcomed his son.

Garrus stepped through the door. Swiveling his head, he immediately set his gaze on Laelia. "Mom," he said as he walked into the parlor, set down his bag and case next to a chair and settled down on the couch.

Laelia held her hands out to him and he took them. "Garrus…I'm so glad you've come home…I've wanted to see you so much."

"I know," Garrus said, staring into his mother's damp eyes. "I'm sorry I've stayed away so long."

Laelia shook her head. "You had good reasons."

Garrus' mandibles pulsed and he briefly looked to his father. Cadmus understood his glance. Laelia thought he had good reasons; Cadmus on the other hand thought this fact up for debate.

"Garrus," a new voice spoke. Garrus turned to focus on Solana who stood in the doorway of the kitchen. She sauntered slowly over and reached down to exchange wrist grips.

"Sol, it's good to see you."

Solana nodded and then let go of Garrus' hand. "And you." She walked over to a chair and gingerly took a seat. Cadmus scrutinized her, not sure what she was feeling. He knew Garrus and Solana had communicated at least once through messages after the Battle. He had thought maybe they made peace. If they had, it seemed a tentative one.

Cadmus took a seat next to Solana. "How is the Citadel?" he asked.

Garrus leaned back against the couch and scanned each of his family members in turn, then concentrated on his father. "Much of it is the same. Right now they estimate about 30% of it was damaged in some way. The Presidium took the brunt of the blow from the interior assault. The Zakera hub is a mess. The Citadel Tower will need extensive rebuilding. And Tayseri won't be completely restored for a long time."

"Viator was here," Laelia informed her son.

"Dad told me," Garrus spoke lowly.

"Oh," Laelia said, unaware Cadmus had revealed that detail. "Do you know...?"

Garrus nodded. "Cousin Leea was killed." He looked to Cadmus. "Kemi?"

"She's alive," Solana interjected before Cadmus could answer. Garrus shifted his gaze to his sister. "Leea covered her with her own body to save her."

Garrus swallowed hard and Cadmus noticed his eyes grow angry and cold at the same time.

"You did a great thing, Garrus, stopping Saren," Laelia said, placing a shaky hand on Garrus' knee.

Garrus took Laelia's hand in his own and squeezed it. "Shepard deserves the praise for that. Without her, it wouldn't have happened."

Solana snorted from her chair and Garrus snapped his eyes back over to her. "What?"

Solana rocked uncomfortably in her seat. "I agree Commander Shepard should be praised for saving the Citadel, but really, Garrus, her visions? She wasn't exactly sane, was she? I'm sure you and her team carried her quite a bit."

Garrus ground his teeth. "I believe her visions."

Solana stared. "You can't be serious?"

Garrus met his sister's gaze. "I am."

"But there's no evidence in any study of history that…"

Cadmus broke in as Laelia sent him a strained visage. She didn't want her children at each other's throats again. "This isn't the time to discuss such issues. Commander Shepard is dead. We should let her military exploits be her legacy."

Solana closed her mouth and looked away from Garrus. Garrus lowered his head. Laelia bent her own head to gaze into her son's face. "I'm sorry about Commander Shepard," she spoke gently.

Garrus raised his head to his mother. "She was the best officer I ever worked under," he declared without a glance at his father. "The galaxy needed her and all it's done is desecrate her and throw her to the wind." Garrus' voice came out harsh and bitter. "It wasn't her time to die," he concluded vehemently.

"Now you know," Solana's hushed voice muttered from her chair.

Garrus turned his face to her.

"Now you know how it feels." No one in the room had to ask Solana what she meant. All too clearly she meant Arrian. Garrus had been forced to suffer the death of someone he admired just as she had. It wasn't a direct correlation, but close enough.

Garrus' eyes bore into his sister for several seconds. Cadmus was just about to interrupt when he spoke. "I've always known how you felt, Sol. Always."

Solana suddenly stood and exited the parlor quickly, heading towards the back of the house.

"Garrus, I'm sorry," Laelia spoke. "She still feels…his death so strongly."

Garrus let a breath escaped his mouth and nodded. "I understand."

"We've got your room set up," Cadmus said, feeling the need to change the subject and relieve the discomfort in the parlor.

"Thank you," Garrus said, standing. "I need to refresh."

"Of course."

Garrus walked back to his bag and case, picked them up and then ascended the stairs. Cadmus shared a gaze with Laelia who raised and lowered her mandibles sadly. "We've done enough talking," Cadmus insisted. "We have to let them work this out themselves."

Laelia gradually bobbed her head. "I know…You're right…Yes, I know…"

* * *

As Cadmus had predicted, having Garrus home added to the disquiet of the Vakarian home. It wasn't so much any outward action; no one did anything specific to cause a ripple in calm water. The Vakarians acted as if very little had happened at all, not discussing Garrus' running off with Commander Shepard or Saren or the Battle of the Citadel. But avoiding the elephant in the house didn't make it go away; it only made it more apparent. For his part, Cadmus wanted to have a conversation with Garrus man to man, but he hadn't found the appropriate time. He knew Garrus had been through much lately and if there was any hope of swaying his son to his point of view, he would have to speak at the exact right moment.

A week into Garrus' return, Cadmus headed to his office to check if any security files had come in for him to review. When he made it to his office however, he heard Garrus inside speaking to someone whose voice he didn't recognize. He paused outside, not wanting to disturb his son who must be having a conversation through the comm screen. He thought perhaps he should walk away and give Garrus some privacy, but the conversation piqued his interest and he listened.

"It's been so difficult, Garrus. I keep thinking about her day and night," said the other voice. It was smooth, reserved and mildly girlish.

"I know the feeling."

"Isn't it strange? We hardly knew her, really. Only a month or so and we cared so much for her."

"Combat bonds people. Particularly turians."

"I suppose you're right."

"That and Shepard had a way of _making_ you like her."

The other voice laughed softly. "I agree with you."

"Too bad Saren didn't."

"Yes," the voice said. "Or the Council."

"Especially the Council," Garrus said, his tone caustic.

"They do not know what they are dealing with. They fear the truth."

"Their fear will destroy the galaxy."

"Garrus, I wanted to talk to you because I need to tell you what I'm doing. I've contacted others on the team, but no one wants to go with me."

"Go where?" Garrus asked warily.

"I'm going to Alchera. Her body has not been recovered. I need to look for her. She might be alive."

Cadmus heard Garrus draw in a long breath. "Don't do it, Liara."

"I need to."

"You'll only hurt yourself."

"I can't give up on her."

"It's not giving up to admit she's gone. If you do find her, at best she'll be a charred shell. I don't want to see that or know it exists. I want to remember her as she was."

"Nevertheless, I am going to try. I assume you will not go with me?"

"I won't. She deserves to be left in peace."

There was a pause, then the voice, this Liara, spoke again. "I understand. Take care of yourself, Garrus."

"Always."

"T'Soni out."

Cadmus pulled back down the hall and waited a while, but Garrus didn't emerge. After several minutes, Cadmus decided to go in anyway. He found Garrus sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. He stood up when he heard Cadmus enter.

"Dad. I was just using the comm."

"That's fine." Garrus made to exit, but Cadmus inquired. "Who were you calling?"

Garrus' mandibles flapped. "A friend." He turned on his heel and left. Cadmus watched him go, reading in his son's eyes deep depression. Commander Shepard's death had hit him terribly hard. Cadmus recalled Garrus' assertion in his comm conversation that combat bonded turians. Quite so. Garrus had apparently formed quite a strong connection to Shepard as he fought alongside her and Cadmus couldn't really blame him. If it was one thing Shepard _did_ know how to do it was fight. No matter how emotionally unbalanced she might have been, she _had_ been a warrior.

Cadmus sat down and began to skim through his e-mails. He had a couple of interesting files to peruse, but he hadn't looked far into them when he felt a slight rhythmic shaking in his desk. He paused to look down. Yes, his desk was indeed shaking. He looked around. Other objects also trembled. He noticed, though, that the planter in the corner that hung from the ceiling shook the most. He glanced up at the ceiling. The combat room was right above his office. _Hum…was Garrus…up there?_

Cadmus stood and exited his office, then climbed the stairs. The closer he got to the combat room, the more he felt the floor vibrate. When he reached the combat room door and it swooshed open, he was met with a syncopated, electronic cacophony that about blew him back down the hall. He stepped inside quickly, afraid the noise would bother Laelia, the door shutting behind him. Garrus was on the combat mat dressed in a red long sleeved shirt and pants. He moved quickly and precisely all over the mat in various traditional combat stances and many more that were improvised. He hadn't even noticed his father was present.

As Cadmus observed he felt sincere sympathy for his son. Garrus was suffering. The way he jerked through the stances revealed a soul in turmoil. He was angry, depressed and frustrated. Commander Shepard had had an influence far stronger than Cadmus thought she would. And even though Cadmus didn't yet agree that Garrus had done the right thing in following her, he knew how Garrus felt. He'd felt the same as he watched the Citadel pummeled and saw his friends' names on the casualty lists. He had managed to hide his feelings, to cover them over with turian pride, but Garrus had always been so emotional, listening to his heart over his head. Right now, throwing himself all over the combat mat was the only way for him to deal with what had happened to him.

With this in mind, Cadmus walked over to the sound system and cut the blaring music. Garrus stumbled and halted on the mat, turning to see his father in the room. "Dad," he said, breathing heavily. "I didn't…hear you…come in."

"Obviously," Cadmus said. "What was that?"

"The music?"

Cadmus nodded.

"It's from _Fleet and Flotilla…_'Fire in the Courtyard.'" Ah yes, Cadmus realized. He'd only seen the movie once but he did remember the long fight scene. Completely overdone and unrealistic. "Helps me concentrate during a firefight."

Cadmus shook his head. "You listen to music in an actual battle?"

Garrus nodded. "Comes through my visor."

Cadmus didn't even know combat visors could be equipped to play music. He thought music would only get in the way of combat. Why would _anyone_ want music vying for his brain at the same time he needed to focus? But Garrus was a younger turian and probably had trained his mind for such chaos.

Cadmus linked his hands behind his back. "Do you want to spar?"

"With you?" Garrus asked, surprised.

"It's clear you need it. I'm willing."

Garrus smiled slightly. "I haven't fought you since I was a teenager. And you've gotten a bit older since then. Are you sure you can handle me?"

Cadmus couldn't help but smile back at Garrus' attempt to provoke him. "I'm your father. I could take you any day of the week."

Garrus chuckled. "Then I accept." Cadmus stepped onto the mat and watched Garrus pace to the other end where he turned around. "Rules?"

Cadmus remembered so many years ago when his son had adamantly declared that enemies didn't fight with rules so why should he. Cadmus had bested him then to prove what you could do within the rules. "Can you _handle_ the rules?"

Garrus now laughed openly. "Easily."

"Then let's see how you do with their constraints."

"Alright."

Cadmus crouched down and yelled, "Prim!"

Garrus wasted no time sprinting across the mat. He was on Cadmus in seconds, a quick jab to the stomach, which Cadmus easily deflected, and then a twist of the arm that Cadmus leaned into then side stepped out of. Cadmus punched his elbow into Garrus' back, but his attack had no effect on his son. Garrus simply turned, locking his left leg around his father's right, then gripped his shoulders and pushed back. Cadmus didn't lose his balance. Instead, he pushed his own hands straight out into Garrus' chest with such force his son stepped several feet back on the mat. Cadmus gave him no pause for recovery and came on strong, a crouched thrust to Garrus' right knee and then an elbow up towards the chin. The blow to the knee caused Garrus to wobble, but he still caught his balance and blocked the intended hit to his chin. He returned by shoving his own elbow into Cadmus' face, causing Cadmus to back up for a moment. Garrus came at him.

For a long time, neither held the high ground. Neither gave up either. They kept coming at each other, pushes, grabs, blows, recoveries; they were evenly matched. Only a foolish mistake or sheer exhaustion would bring one down. Finally, after fifteen minutes of straight on combat, Cadmus faltered when Garrus grabbed onto his cowl and shoved him from behind. He tried to twist away, but Garrus held strong and with all his strength drove his father to the mat. Cadmus fell with a crash, crying out as he went down, then his breath was completely knocked out of him. He lay with his hand on his chest, trying to get air into his lungs. He sucked in a couple of noisy breaths and lay still.

"Dad?" Garrus called out in concern, sitting down next to his father. "Are you…alright?"

Cadmus didn't answer, but nodded shakily.

"I didn't mean…to bring you down...so hard," Garrus spoke guiltily through heavy breaths.

Cadmus threw out his hand and gripped Garrus' arm. "Help…me…up."

Garrus pulled his father to a sitting position and Cadmus sat with his hands behind him and his legs outstretched. He took several more deep breaths and fixed his son with an intent gaze. "Never…apologize for…winning fairly."

Garrus smiled. "You're definitely my dad…That's the first time I've ever beaten you."

Cadmus eyed his son. "And it will be your last."

"You hope," Garrus said good-naturedly.

Cadmus took a few more minutes to steady himself and while doing so assessed Garrus' interaction with him. Garrus was smiling and talking to him, interacting so positively. He didn't think he would find a better time to have a conversation with his son.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about your future," Cadmus began tentatively.

Garrus let out a groan. "I thought you'd say this sooner or later."

"Hear me out, Garrus."

Garrus held up a hand indicating his father should continue.

"Following Commander Shepard was…your decision, wise or not. But Commander Shepard is no longer with us. C-Sec needs you. I'm glad you are considering going back, but you must go back with the correct motive."

"And that is?"

"You have to let C-Sec make you better than you are. You have to submit to its legislation and structure. You must make C-Sec your master."

Garrus let out a low breath. "When you say it like that, it makes me want to skip C-Sec all together."

Cadmus bit his tongue, stifling an instinctually biting reply. Instead he said sincerely, "I see traveling the galaxy with a Spectre did nothing to make you honor law."

Garrus' mandibles quivered in agitation. "Actually, it made me honor it more. Shepard was all about doing things the right way, not the easiest or fastest way. She may not have been bound by law but she stuck to it as much as possible."

"Then honor her memory by going back to C-Sec and doing it the right way."

Garrus breathed in slowly. "It's not that easy," he whispered.

"And why not?" Cadmus challenged him. "You're turian. You're supposed to be a perfect soldier."

Garrus set hard eyes on his father. "A perfect soldier isn't going to get through to the Council."

"What does the Council have to do with it?"

"Dad…there really are monsters coming to the galaxy. Shepard's visions were real. The Council doesn't want to believe it, but I'm not going to let them forget."

Cadmus clenched his jaw. "So, you're going to use C-Sec to keep Shepard's delusions alive."

Garrus pulled his knees up to his chest, his penetrating gray-blue eyes still on his father. "Not entirely. I'm going to make C-Sec better. Sovereign's attack on the Citadel was nothing. C-Sec needs to be ready for what's coming."

Cadmus shook his head. His emotional son had bought into Shepard's ridiculous beliefs hook, line and sinker. "I don't know exactly what you encountered out there, but I do know the Council has done a thorough investigation. Shepard was wrong."

For the first time, Garrus raised his voice. "She _wasn't_ wrong. I _know_ she wasn't."

"How?"

Garrus' mandibles shuddered. "I talked to Sovereign."

"You talked to a ship?" Cadmus asked skeptically.

"I keep trying to tell you, it, they, aren't just ships. They're relentless sentient machines out to destroy all organics."

Cadmus held back a frustrated sigh. "And _when_ did you talk to it?"

"On Virmire. It spoke to us through a hologram."

Cadmus stared at his son. "A hologram isn't a ship. We know Saren was behind all of this. It was most likely a VI meant to fool you."

"I thought that when we first saw it. But then we had a discussion with it. It wasn't a VI. It was really talking to us."

Cadmus continued to stare and Garrus met his gaze. This was insane. He knew Saren was resourceful and intelligent; it would have been nothing for him to pull off a trick like this. He couldn't believe Garrus was naively falling for it.

"Son," Cadmus said firmly, "I know you respected Shepard. But she was human. You know humans are prone to emotional paranoia, always thinking the universe is out to get them. I warned you she was humanity's alone. She saw this debacle with Saren as an attack on her people. She lost herself, seeing enemies where there were none."

Garrus slapped his hand to the mat. "I hate this about you. You pretend to be objective when it comes to humans but you're just as prejudicial as most turians! She wasn't emotionally deluded. She was steady, strong and focused, better at life than most turians I know! Her visions were real! And I _will_ make C-Sec ready for the Reapers!"

Cadmus pulled himself up and sat cross-legged, his eyes hard on Garrus. "With an attitude like this, you have no right returning to C-Sec. It doesn't need your almighty hand to shape it. It will mold you _if_ you consent to let it."

Garrus sighed loudly and stood. "I'm done talking."

Cadmus stood as well. "Hear me, Garrus. You're still headstrong and willful. You can't go back to the Citadel like that. You have no control and all you'll do is make a mess of it if you think that C-Sec is there for your personal vendetta. You're angry about Shepard's death. I understand that. But it won't be honoring her memory to attack the Council and harangue C-Sec. You can't make Shepard come back to life by shoving her suspect visions in everyone's face!"

"I don't care if they don't listen to me," Garrus returned haughtily. "I'll remind them just by being there and in the meantime I'll make C-Sec what it should be: a force of justice that has the guts to hunt down and strangle its enemies until they're exterminated."

"Garrus…" Cadmus said in frustration, but his son was already marching towards the door.

"I've had it, dad. We're done talking. It's better when we pretend we don't know what each other is thinking." The door opened and closed.

Cadmus drew in a faltering breath and then stomped an angry foot on the mat. Curse, Garrus! He never listened to sense, always thought his way was _the_ way. And all that Cadmus could foresee with such an arrogant attitude was doom and destruction for his wayward son. Either the Council would kick him off station or C-Sec would crush him or he'd self-destruct on his own. Cadmus didn't know which would happen first, but he saw it coming and all Garrus was doing was walking into it blind. Part of him worried over this, but most of him wanted it to happen sooner rather than later. If experience was Garrus' only teacher, Cadmus hoped he'd get a good dose of it, his disgraceful attitude brought down to its proverbial knees by its own deficiencies.


End file.
